


Failure to Launch

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angsty ish, Failure to launch au, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, M/M, Movie AU, POV Alternating, Rom-Com AU, real/problematic feelings, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:38:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures when Louis’ mother realizes her adult son may never leave the comfort of home, so she hires Harry, a highly-recommended professional interventionist who’s skilled enough to help push her darling son out of the bloody nest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fadedtoblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedtoblack/gifts).



> For the beautiful Laura!! <3

The time it usually takes for Louis to dig his keys out of his back pocket is almost quadrupled tonight. The fact that it’s pitch black outside his front door save for the moon is the biggest reason. The pair of hands gripped firmly around his bum don’t exactly help either, but fuck, do they feel nice.

“Hurry up, love. I want to get you out of these clothes.”

Coincidentally, that’s exactly what Louis wants too. The desperation alone in his date’s voice has him ready to strip right here and now.

“G-Give me just a sec,” Louis manages with Devon’s skilled tongue running along the shell of his ear.

It’s just the motivation Louis needs to finally wedge his keys free from the jeans he can barely breathe in; purely strategic of course and clearly the right move on Louis’ part. The big silver key that he needs is easy to feel out in the darkness and shove into the padlock. Thank God.

Louis’ mouth is recaptured the moment the door opens causing him and Devon to stumble through it. From then on, it’s a blind, uncoordinated venture through the house and up the stairs.

“I still can’t believe this massive house is where you live,” Devon grins against his lips. “Can’t wait for us to have sex _all over it_.”

That’s quite ambitious considering the two of them can hardly even make it to Louis’ bedroom without stepping on or bumping into a billion things, but the enthusiasm’s nice.

“In here,” Louis says when they finally reach his door. He and Devon crash through it and onto Louis’ bed where their clothes are immediately stripped off, just as promised.

“Condom and lube?”

“Bedside. Top drawer,” Louis pants out, wincing when Devon’s quick movement to retrieve them ends in an accidental crash as Louis’ bedside lamp falls to the ground.

_Fuck_. Well, that was fun while it lasted. Which wasn’t very long at all.

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry, Louis, I didn’t mean t-” Devon’s apology is cut short as the sound of a displeased whimper reaches them from further down the corridor. That whimpering evolves into full-on wail that is quickly joined by another. Louis can practically feel the slow and painful death of the mood in the room as his and Devon’s erections die right along with it. “Are- Are those _kids_?”

Louis winces as another bedroom door flies open and quick footsteps sound in the corridor along with a concerned yet slightly annoyed voice that Louis knows all too well.

“Louis, what on Earth was that noise? Are you alright? You’ve woken up the twins.”

Yes, by now, the whole country is probably aware of that fact.

“ _Twins_?” Devon asks incredulously. “Wait, you’re a dad? And _married?_ ”

“It’s not what you think,” Louis begins, but before he can properly explain, his bedroom door flies open to reveal his mother still bleary-eyed and dressed in her night clothes. It’s like a train wreck that won’t end watching Devon scurry for something to cover himself while his mother simply glares at the pair of them from the threshold.

“Devon, mum. Mum, Devon,” Louis sighs as his date gives a feeble wave. “And, I’m okay, it was just the lamp. Sorry about the noise, mum. We’ll be more careful.” His explanation is only met with more glaring before his mother rolls her eyes, shuts his door, and stomps off towards the opposite end of the house.

The sense of relief Louis feels is incredibly short-lived when he realizes a second pair of eyes are boring into him.

In Louis’ experience, the best way to navigate this level of awkwardness is to just ignore it and move on so he gives it a go, leaning in to pick up where he and Devon left off. However, he doesn’t get so much as a brush of their lips before Devon is pushing him away.

“You still live at home with your mum.”

“Um, yes? And my sisters and brother,” Louis adds over the sound of his two youngest siblings still protesting the commotion that woke them. All thanks to Devon, who seems to have forgotten it was _his_ clumsiness that interrupted them to begins with. This is all his fault really. “I help out with cleaning and babysitting and things like that. Is that a problem?”

Devon looks like he wants to scream yes, but he doesn’t. He seems to give Louis’ words some thought before finally shaking his head. “It’s not a problem, I guess. It’s… nice you help out your mum. I just wasn’t expecting it is all.”

That’s fantastic news. Much better than the explosive reactions Louis has gotten in the past.

“Well, right now, I’m not very worried about them so you shouldn’t be either. I’m only focused on _you_ ,” Louis says feeling quite victorious when Devon doesn’t instantly reject his second attempt at rekindling the mood.

Clearly, the man is struggling with the knowledge that they’re not truly alone. And then there’s the lullaby sing-a-longs drifting out of the twins’ room meant to lure them back to sleep that admittedly, even Louis can’t completely tune out.

“Alright, l lied. It’s a huge problem,” Devon blurts out of nowhere, flailing to sit up again.

“It’s not _that_ big a deal, you know. Everyone will be sleeping again in just a few minutes,” Louis argues but knows it’s no use as his date starts pulling on his clothes.

“I don’t care,” Devon scoffs. “It’s too weird for me. Dealing with someone’s annoying housemates is one thing, but _Frère Jacques_ and _You Are My Sunshine_? I can’t stay here.”

Nursery rhymes and kid songs aren’t for everyone, Louis supposes. He’s just glad Devon’s gone before his family’s famous rendition of _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star._

 

The next morning, Louis is given a taste of his own medicine when he’s startled awake by a loud crash somewhere in the house. Now, he understands exactly why the twins cried last night because being woken up in the middle of a good dream sucks.

Louis crawls out of bed, the cool morning air on his skin reminding him to put on some clothes before stumbling out of his room in the same fashion he stumbled into it the night before. Devon is long gone (the man practically _ran_ out of the house), however evidence of their journey from his car to Louis’ bed is still visible. For instance, there’s a random sock in the corridor that doesn’t belong to Louis and is much too big to fit anyone else in the house. Devon must’ve dropped it on his way out. And then of course there’s the table that’s been knocked askew along with some of the lower hanging photographs on the wall. Louis thanks his lucky stars they only destroyed a lamp.

On his way down the stairs, Louis steps over some stray toys and other misplaced items. He assumes the things were there last night too, but he and Devon were much too distracted to notice. Though, someone who is _not_ distracted whatsoever is Louis’ mother who notices him standing in the kitchen doorway long before his siblings do. She looks more tired than usual in her nurse scrubs which is one-hundred percent Louis’ fault. Louis can only assume she’s still greatly annoyed with him, but then she stops staring at Louis like she wants to wring his neck and lets out a yielding sigh.

“Coffee?” she asks, already pouring a generous amount into Louis’ favorite mug.

“Ooh, thanks. This is why I love you.” Louis presses a kiss to her temple for good measure, grinning when his mother fondly rolls her eyes.

“You’re not off the hook, you know,” she warns as Louis takes a seat at the kitchen table and begins digging in like everybody else. “We need to talk about last night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Louis garbles through a mouthful of pancake and egg. “He left. Never coming back.”

“Who’s never coming back?” his thirteen-year-old sister, Daisy, asks across the table from him. It’s her twin Phoebe who answers.

“Louis’ boyfriend he scared off last night just like all the others.”

“Devon’s not my boyfriend,” Louis rolls his eyes only for his two eldest sisters to snicker beside him.

“Well, not anymore, he’s not.”

Louis isn’t sure which of them said it, so he gives both their shins a small kick under the table. It starts a battle Louis isn’t exactly prepared to fight with his bare feet versus their thick shoes. Brute force alone isn’t going to get him very far, so he has to resort to other strategies like swiping the bacon from each of their plates and shoving it into his mouth before they can grab it back.

“Mum!” Lottie shouts. “Did you see what he just did?!”

“Tattle-tale,” Louis mumbles through his mouthful of grease that just makes his youngest siblings giggle.

“Alright, that’s enough,” his mother declares for everyone. “Small children up the stairs to get ready for preschool, big children off to regular school, and _adult_ children off to work.”

“She means _you_ ,” Felicite snorts, affectionately flicking Louis in the ear despite stealing her food. Or maybe it’s _because_ he stole it.

Everyone leaves the table to go do as they’re told including Louis, however his mother stops him before he’s completely out of sight.

“Louis, dear. We really do need to talk about some things. I’m serious.”

The concern in her voice matches the heavy amount of it displayed on her face when Louis turns to face her. She worries so much about people, but Louis has told her again and again that he doesn’t need to be one of them.

“I already told you, mum, there’s nothing to talk about,” Louis grins. “The lamp was a total accident. Won’t happen again.”

“Yes, that’s great. But, love, this isn’t just about-”

“I know. I woke up the twins, but you have my word. Never again. Promise.”

Satisfied that he’s now smoothed things over, Louis runs over to press one more kiss to his mother’s temple. For some reason, she appears even less assured than before watching Louis head off to start his day.

“Love you!” Louis calls over his shoulder to which he receives a genuine, but far less bubbly, ‘ _love you too’_.

 

Work is busy as always, but good as half a dozen young and energetic entrepreneurs come through his office to pitch their ideas in hopes of an investment. Louis himself isn’t an investor. He simply works for one of the biggest firms in the city, picking out the new potential business opportunities his boss would be most interested in. So far, Louis has okayed an idea for a vegan fast food chain and a company for house-call chefs to assist the culinary/kitchen-challenged. Thankfully, by the time Louis gets to the guy who wants to start a clothing line for reptiles, it’s time for lunch.

Louis heads over to _Orange Grill_ to meet his two best friends. Niall and Stan are already digging into their plates when Louis arrives _seven_ minutes late. Pricks.

“How incredibly patient and polite of you,” Louis mutters as takes a seat across from both of them and takes half of Stan’s mozzarella sticks to go with the other half of Niall’s burger. He’ll pay for dessert later so it all evens out. Maybe.

“What kept you this time?” Stan asks.

“Lizard vests and accessories. Ugh, why’d you get mozzarella sticks? You know I like the bacon bites best.”

“I’ll just have to remind myself of that next time I order _my_ lunch.”

“ _Our_ lunch,” Louis corrects him before taking a sip of his tea. “And don’t gripe. You’ll both get your dessert.”

Niall seems satisfied with that even if Stan doesn’t. He’s not worried about it at all. “Tell us about your date last night with the boyfriend,” he demands.

“Yes, how is our darling dear dashing Devon,” Stan smirks.

Honestly, they’re as bad as Louis’ sisters. And twice as annoying.

“First of all, he was never my boyfriend, and second; the alliteration game wasn’t cute the first dozen times you played it.”

Both of his friends frown a bit as Louis returns to eating his lunch.

“What do you mean he ‘ _was_ ’ never your boyfriend?” Niall asks. “Where the hell did he go?”

“Out of my driveway as fast as he could after I brought him home,” Louis answers Niall earning some oddly triumphant laughter in return. Louis tries not to roll his eyes too far into the back of his head when Stan digs into his wallet and grudgingly hands Niall a wad of cash. “Seriously? You two had a fucking _bet_? _Again_?”

“Um, yeah. How else am I supposed to support my weekly pub-crawl habit?” Niall grins. “By the way, thanks.”

“Glad I could help. I’ll try to get dumped more often,” Louis retorts making Stan scoff.

“Oh please, Lou. You knew exactly what was going to happen when you took Devon there because it goes that way every single time.” 

“That’s not true. Angelo was relatively supportive.”

“If by supportive you mean raiding your mum’s kitchen every time he came over because he was too cheap to shop for himself, then sure.”

Stan’s got a point there. “Okay, then. What about Christopher?”

“He lived at home too and podcasts about UFO sightings on the weekends,” Niall rudely reminds him. Louis can’t lie, Christopher’s alien obsession was slightly odd, but Christopher was also very hot.

“Yeah, but he never _dumped_ me though.”

“That’s because _you_ dumped _him_ ,” Niall deadpans. “Face it, Lou. Pretty much every relationship you’ve had has been doomed from the moment a guy sets foot in your house because you’re living there with all your shit on top of everyone else’s shit. You need your own space, mate.”

Louis rejects that claim. He also thinks his friend is being a little dramatic here. Living at home is not the worst thing in the world. It’s actually a really nice set up. This morning, Louis got coffee _and_ bacon.

“ _Stan_ still lives with his grandmother,” Louis points out so he’s not the only one getting attacked here.

“I also have a flat I’m renting out until my grandmother recovers from hip surgery,” Stan answers. And, well, that didn’t work out quite the way Louis intended.

“Er- Sorry, Stan. How is she by the way?”

“Lovely,” he smiles. “I’m taking her to physical therapy this afternoon. Thanks for asking.”

Obviously, using Stan’s living situation to back up his own isn’t going to get him anywhere. Niall was living in his parents’ basement just a few months ago until his girlfriend Elise convinced him to move in with her. He’s been an insufferable bastard ever since.

“The way I see it, none of the people I’ve dated deserved me anyway if they couldn’t accept me _and_ my family. We’re a package deal.”

Living at home may not be for everyone but it works for Louis. And although he may not have a grandparent to take care of, Louis does have a little bother, five little sisters, and a mum who all need him; even if they don’t always voice it. Their fathers aren’t around, so Louis needs to be. No one has ever said that out loud, but it pretty much goes without saying. Louis’ the eldest. And besides that, he’s happy to help out. It’s a win-win for everyone involved. Except for his sex life of course but you can’t have everything.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of an alarm playing on Harry’s bedside table pulls him out of a deep sleep. At first, he doesn’t even want to move. He’d much rather just lie here for another hour or two, but then Harry’s phone dings with a reminder that perks him right up. _New client today_.

Ordinarily, Harry has time to start his day with a quick run or yoga session, but his new client’s schedule only allows for meetings very early in the morning or very late at night once her nursing shifts end. That’s alright though. It’s no bother for Harry to make a few adjustments for her. After all, from their conversation over the phone, it sounds like she really needs some help. Other than missing a cardio session, the rest of Harry’s morning flows as smoothly as usual with him ready and dressed for success in time to enjoy a quick cup of coffee.

Harry’s flatmate is already there enjoying his daily dose of caffeine when Harry arrives to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Liam!”

“Morning,” he chirps back giving Harry’s choice of outfit a nod of approval. “I’m making an omelet if you’d like one as well.”

“Er- Just coffee for now, thanks,” Harry answers as he pours some into a mug. “I’ve got to get going pretty soon.”

“Oh. New client already?”

“Yep,” Harry smiles. “One more soon-to-be happy customer coming right up.”

His roommate fondly rolls his eyes. “I forgot there’s nothing you’re more obsessive over than your perfect success rate.”

“ _Almost_ perfect,” Harry corrects his friend with a sigh.

“Oh, yeah. I guess UFO guy puts you at a solid ninety-nine percent.”

Harry lets out another sigh, but quickly brushes off the defeat because aliens were harder to compete with than Harry realized and he’s never claimed to be a miracle worker.  

It’s only a ten-minute drive to the house with the blue door Harry parks in front of. It’s pretty impressive. Harry would guess four to five rooms at least but it’s also quite charming with its overgrown rose bushes. Harry’s so impressed he nearly misses the sound of footsteps approaching him from inside the house.

Harry stands up straight and brushes himself off, a kind grin in place when his new wary-looking client opens the door.

“You must be Mrs. Tomlinson. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Harry, the interventionist you spoke with on the phone?”

The woman gives a few cautious looks outside her door before resettling her eyes on Harry with a sigh he can only interpret as half guilt and half relief.

“Thank God, you’re here,” she says by way of greeting. “Please, come in. And call me Jay.”

Harry likes her already.    

 

The mini stare-off Harry and his new client are caught in isn’t new to Harry. In fact, his clients are always quite curious about him and his line of work. They usually bombard him with questions. Which is probably what Jay is about to do considering the slight furrowing of her eyebrows the longer she watches him.

“So, what exactly is your job title again? Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he insists, more than happy to explain it all a second time. “I think the best way to think of me is a special interventionist. Or, like a professional dater of sorts in cases of failure to launch. Much like your son, Louis.”

“ _Failure_ to launch?” she repeats with a frown.

“It’s the phrase I use to describe adults who, for various reasons, may have a harder time moving out on their own than their peers.”

“So… this happens often?”

“Well, more than you’d think. I find it’s usually a lack of confidence or motivation that keeps men like your son at home, so that’s where I come in. Confidence can be built in many ways, but a healthy relationship is a great one. What I do, is simulate a romantic relationship to encourage people like your son to take some next steps in life.”

Jay nods her head, but her expression is still somewhat murky.

“And not that I don’t trust your expertise, Harry, because you came highly recommended by my co-worker, but how do you know it’ll _work_?”

Harry’s near perfect success rate is how he knows it’ll work but he doesn’t like to brag. “Jay, my job is to show up, look nice, laugh at all of Louis’ jokes, find out what he likes and then pretend to like it too. There’s never any intimacy, so I don’t want you to worry there. Remember, this process is mostly about motivation so I’m like the metaphorical carrot dangled over his head. No sex. Just bait.”

“And it’s really that easy?” she asks skeptically. “In two months, Louis will be moved out of here and into a place of his own?”

If Louis is anything like Harry’s last client he’ll be gone in just _one_ , although there have been extenuating circumstances in the past that have slowed progress.

“How does your son feel about UFOs?”

The deep frown on Jay’s face is answer enough.

“Perfect,” Harry chuckles. “That means we’re already halfway there.”

*

“Bye, Mum!” Louis calls on his way out of the house, earning a chorus of indignant groaning as a result. “Bye, Mum, _and_ Lotts, _and_ Fizz, _and_ Phoebes, _and_ Daze.” The youngest set of twins are out on a playdate otherwise Louis would’ve added them to the list. His amended farewell doesn’t receive any backlash so Louis assumes it’s safe to shut the front door. He hops down the steps, pausing to pet their neighbor’s cat who wandered over before jumping behind the wheel of his car.

He’s meeting his friends later for a little lad’s night, but Louis’ got some time to kill before then. Almost a whole hour, which is just enough time to get in his weekly voyage to the record shop to check out the new arrivals.

Spin Junkie looks as magnificent and promising as ever when Louis breezes through its doors. He says hello to Caleb and Angela organizing some old stacks behind the register and then makes a beeline for the new arrivals section near the window. He begins his ritual of flipping through the records that must’ve just been put out today since there’s an autographed Bowie not even half-way through the stack. Someone was stupid enough to get rid of it, meaning Louis is lucky enough to be its new owner.

“What else is hiding in here?” Louis grins to himself. Having no idea what he might find is half the thrill of it. Once, he even found an original Dylan in perfect condition, so he keeps his eyes sharp on the off chance of there being another.

There isn’t. Besides his new Bowie, there’s nothing else in the shop special enough to catch Louis’ attention; at least, not in the new arrivals anyway. There’s a boy a few yards away, scoping out a copy of The Sex Pistols 1997 record currently sitting in Louis’ bedroom.

Besides great taste in music, the boy has other amiable qualities like the white t-shirt he’s wearing with the sleeves neatly rolled up and the dark jeans hugging his thighs. Staring is rude, but there’s just something about a man who knows how to pick his music and his clothes, and that’s not even considering the tattoos covering his arms, his dark, windswept hair, or the sharp cut of his jaw. Perfection is an art that is rarely achieved, but this man may have just fucking cracked it. Louis can’t tell which has his heart pumping faster; his new Bowie, or this man who just tucked The Sex Pistols under his arm along with Arctic Monkeys. He’s fucking _sold_. 

“I nearly scratched an Arctic Monkeys once. Worst scare of my life,” Louis says as he pretends to consider a Floyd record he already owns, casually throwing out the bait to test the waters. He just needs a bite in return; not even a huge one. Just a tiny little nibble.

“I wasn’t quite so lucky,” the boy sighs at a Neil Diamond before his lips pull up into a grin. “My, uh, _ex_ wasn’t a very good liar, but it turns out he was one hell of a thief.”

“ _Ouch_.” Louis grabs at his chest, wincing as if it were his own record that vanished. However, it’s the all too crucial _ex_ part of it all that hooks him. “Please tell me that’s the only one he swiped.”

“Aw, I wish I could,” the boy chuckles good-naturedly. “But unfortunately, he completely wiped me out. I’m lucky to still have the needle in my turntable.”

“Jesus, that sucks,” Louis shakes his head. “Romance may really be dead after all.”

Louis expects another laugh. What he doesn’t expect is the pair of green eyes searching his and a grin so wide it has to be bitten into compliance in front of him.

“I wouldn’t say that just yet,” the boy answers after a beat. “I’m Harry.”

“Louis,” he introduces himself having to bite back his own unruly grin. “So, is this your first Spin Junkies excursion?”

“Well, truthfully, I’m usually more of a Cellar Records, dig-through-the-chaos kind of man. Does it show?”

Harry’s laugh is Louis’ new favorite thing. Besides his new Bowie of course. Okay, _tied_ with his new Bowie. Alright, fine. His laugh may be better than an autographed fucking _Bowie_.

“You only look a little lost when you do bizarre things like putting a Neil Diamond back between Kings of Leon and Prince.”

“Oh, god,” Harry groans. “I’m practically hopeless. What am I going to do with myself?” he laughs again in what Louis is almost certain was a hypothetical question. Louis simply chooses to not treat it as such.

“Well, I could probably help you out there if you wanted,” Louis offers. “Explain how the Spin Junkies system works sometime… perhaps over drinks or even dinner?”

The giant smile stretching across Harry’s face is answer enough.

“Definitely dinner,” he decides once he’s schooled his expression back to its usual cool demeanor. “And, definitely yes. I’d love to.”

It’s a date.

*

Harry steps out of his bedroom and into the living room and earns a subsequent whistle from his flatmate.

“The first date, eh?”

“First date,” Harry confirms, turning to face the mirror near their bookshelf to double-check his hair.

“How is he, anyway? What’s he like?” Liam asks.

“Who? Louis?”

Harry stops fussing over his reflection, eyebrows furrowing a bit as he gives his new client some thought.

“Wow, that bad, huh?” Liam snorts when Harry takes more than a few seconds to answer.

“ _No_ ,” Harry laughs. “He’s not bad at all.”

“Cute?”

“ _Very_ cute.” Harry might even venture to say unfairly so.

“UFOs?”

“Not yet.”

“It’s still early,” Liam teases, making Harry laugh again.

“As far as I know, he’s not into UFO’s or anything like that. He has friends and a job and hobbies; _confidence_.” Louis walked right up to him at that record shop with no problem whereas with most clients, Harry has to do most of the work. “He seems pretty well-adjusted, actually.” Which isn’t a first in his career, but it’s definitely a rarity. It’s kind of refreshing.

“So…if he’s so great and all, why does he need you?”

Good question. Louis’ mother hadn’t told him much. Just that she loves her son but she’s afraid he’s gotten too comfortable in her house and in his life. _Complacent_ , is the word she used.

Liam only looks more perplexed by the second, and Harry doesn’t really have an answer for him, but he does know there’s something there. There must be.

“Truth is, I have no idea,” Harry shrugs. But, he can’t wait to find out.

Harry arrives at Mezza twenty minutes early for their date and settles in at his usual table near the back. He ignores the menu; he knows it by heart anyway, to wave at the various staff members zooming through the Mezza dining room taking orders and delivering food. Harry’s favorite waitress, Alisha, spots him on her way to bus a table.

“Look who’s back and sitting in my section tonight no less,” she grins, slipping a bottle of Harry’s favorite pinot noir from the case next to them. “Complimentary drink while you wait?”

“Why, thank you. Only a little bit though,” Harry warns. “I don’t want to be drinking when he arrives.”

Alisha gives a fond roll of her eyes as she pours Harry just enough wine to taste.

“What’s this one’s name?” she grins.

“His name is Louis. He likes music,” Harry kindly informs her.

“Cute?”

It’s the million-dollar question everyone who knows what he does for a living is always fishing for.

“I’ll let you decide for yourself,” Harry smiles. 

“ _Ooh_ ,” Alisha smirks. “Resisting objectification. He must be _very_ cute.” He is. “And what do you predict for Mr. Cute’s ETA?” she asks.

Harry makes a show of slowly drinking his one sip of wine, earning a fresh eye roll.

“Well, Alisha, usually if they’re overly nervous or anxious, ten to fifteen minutes early; crippling fear of being late.” Harry barely even knows Louis but he’s almost certain that’s not going to be him. He asked Harry out as if it were as easy as asking about the weather. “Five minutes if it’s only a mild case of first date jitters; wants to make a good impression without seeming too eager.” That’s more Louis, for sure.

“And if he shows up late?”

Harry can feel himself smirking at the prospect. If Louis Tomlinson shows up even a second after seven-thirty it means he doesn’t care about Harry’s opinion or this date. It would mean Harry misinterpreted all the signs of sexual attraction when they met; the direct eye contact, the innocent yet not-so-innocent biting of his lip, the angling of the body and _hips_ in Harry’s direction as they spoke, and of course, the completely obvious fixation on Harry’s thighs and bum in the strategically tight jeans he wore in order to ensure such a heart-pumping effect.

“Trust me. He’s not going to be late.”

Harry tries not to look too triumphant when Louis comes strolling through the double doors of the restaurant at a prompt seven twenty-five. Harry watches the scene play out from seat as his date informs Maddie, the hostess, that there should be a seven-thirty reservation for two, while Maddie pretends to search for it and then act totally surprised to find Harry’s already here. An Oscar-worthy performance as always.

“Here you are, sir. Enjoy,” she smiles as she shows Louis to their table, only breaking character as she’s backing away to mouth how cute Louis is.

Harry pays her no mind, standing up to greet his date properly. “Louis! It’s good to see you.” He leans in for a quick embrace, catching the wonderfully light scent of Louis’ cologne.

“You too. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” His eyes; radiant against the dark blue of his button-up, are quite genuine just like his apology. Two very good signs.

“You didn’t. Not at all,” Harry assures him. “I only just got here myself so we’re even.” It’s a little white lie that thankfully, Louis doesn’t even bat an eye at.

“Oh. Well, cheers! Let’s order some food,” he smiles before claiming the seat across from Harry’s.

And alright; straight to food it is. Harry can quiz him for details about himself later.

Harry picks up his menu when Louis does. He’s already settled on having the mushroom ravioli like always but he pretends to consider other dishes. “So, Louis. What do you think looks good?”

Harry peeks over the top of his menu when he doesn’t get an immediate response and finds Louis isn’t even reading his.

“May I help you?” Harry chuckles, watching Louis fail to bite down on a grin.

“Nah, it’s nothing,” he claims. “It’s just, I was really looking forward to seeing you again. And now…”

“Here I am,” Harry finishes for him.

“Here you are. And looking amazing by the way.”

Flattery from a client has never sounded so smooth or felt so good. It’s slightly disarming, but Harry recovers quickly.

“Thank you. And I could say the exact same thing about you. I’m really glad you’re here tonight. And wearing that shirt. It’s unfair what it does to your eyes.”

Generally, Harry tries to steer away from compliments about the superficial or physical. He prefers to focus on his clients’ interior rather than their exterior, but it’s not like Louis _needs_ the boost in self-confidence. He’s charming, gorgeous, he dresses well, and he knows it. Having Harry confirm it is just icing on the cake. Having Alisha forget how to speak at the mere sight of him when she comes to pour them both full glasses of wine is icing on pretty much everything else because she gives Louis extra.

It’s no wonder his mother finds it difficult to resist his charm and tell him no. Clearly, everybody else in the world has the same fucking problem. Cracking him is going to be a lot harder than Harry thought. He needs more information.

“So, Louis,” he smiles over his wine glass. “While we wait to order. Tell me a little about yourself. What do you do?”

“I work for an investment firm.”

“Wow. That sounds like it could be a hard job.”

Louis takes a sip of his wine before giving a noncommittal hum. “Yeah, it can be, I guess. It’s just a bunch of numbers really, but, it’s alright.”

Just alright. Interesting word choice.

“Alright as in it’s not perfect but it’s something you enjoy doing, or alright as in you don’t really like your job, it’s awful, but you make yourself do it anyway leaving you feeling a bit resentful and trapped, and perhaps even stuck?”

Perhaps that was too hard of a push since all Louis does is blink at him with a blank expression. Thankfully, it quickly changes to one of amusement.

“Um, I’m going to go with my job’s alright as in _alright_ ,” he laughs, scooting forward a bit in his seat until their ankles cross beneath the table. “Now enough about _me_ ,” he grins. “I want to hear all about _you_.”

 

The restaurant first-date always proves to be very revealing when dealing with a new client. They only last a couple of hours tops, but they’re so informative. For example, Louis chose his own drinks, meal, and dessert without needing anyone’s approval; shows independence. When it came time to pay, he was fine with splitting the cost of their date down the middle; shows that he’s fair. And then as they were leaving Mezza he joked with the hostess about them coming back for their ten-year someday and then hurried past Harry to open the door for him; shows that he’s funny, probably not afraid of commitment, and most importantly, a _gentlemen._

All in all, tonight has been quite pleasant. It didn’t even feel like work most of the time; just him and really nice guy chatting over dinner. A really nice and really _cute_ guy, Harry should say because there’s no denying that. However, just because he’s insanely attractive and sweet doesn’t mean he gets to skip protocol and get a kiss so soon in their simulated relationship even though he’s been angling for one since they arrived at Harry’s car.

“I had a nice time.” Louis says it partly to Harry’s lips, as his gaze briefly falls to them again.

“I had a really great time too, Louis.”

“Oh, yeah?” he whispers, taking a small step closer.

“Yeah,” Harry whispers back, almost feeling bad when he has to dash all of Louis’ hopes and dreams with a turn of his cheek. _Almost_. “Dinner was great, which is why we should do it again sometime! How’s next weekend?”

“Er-” Clearly next weekend was the last thing on Louis’ mind with Harry’s mouth just inches away. “Er- Yeah,” he nods once he’s thinking again. “Next weekend. Sure. Sounds good.”

“Great,” Harry smiles, pulling Louis into a hug and a consolation kiss. On the cheek of course.

Louis only looks slightly disappointed when he chuckles and opens Harry’s car door for him. Mostly he just looks impressed with Harry’s ability to keep him guessing like a good metaphorical carrot should.

The way Louis leans into Harry’s window, just close enough for his cologne to waft into Harry’s car makes him almost regret _not_ breaking the rules.

“I’ll call you tomorrow about that second date,” Louis smiles. “Have a good night.”

And just like that, Harry’s got himself a new fake boyfriend.

“Can’t wait. Goodnight.”


	3. Chapter 3

The thin layer of sweet foam from Louis’ cappuccino begins to disintegrate after he wistfully sighs over it.

“I think I’m in love.”

For the most part, his declaration goes ignored besides his two best friends simultaneously rolling their eyes.

“Please, you had one date,” Stan says sounding unimpressed as he sprinkles pepper over his caesar salad.

Niall seems to have similar opinions, not even bothering to swallow his food before weighing in. “Yeah, Lou, did you even kiss this guy?”

“I didn’t. Not yet,” Louis sighs again. But, he sure fucking wants to. It’s all he’s thought about the last six days, and all the cute little work pictures Harry keeps sending him during the day haven’t helped matters.

“You know you did this same exact thing with Devon not even a whole month ago, right?” Niall points out since moving in with his girlfriend makes him the guru of fucking relationships. “You knew him like, a week before you were drooling into your lunch.”

Louis scoffs in disgust of such blatant lies.

“First of all, I have never _drooled_ in my entire life,” he says despite Stan’s mumbled, ‘ _tell that to my sofa cushion_ ’ that Louis chooses to ignore. “And second, Harry’s different. I mean, it’s early, but I really think he could be it. The _one_.” They’ll get married at Spin Junkies to a soundtrack of vinyl classics and raise their kids on The Killers and Stevie Nicks. It’ll be perfect.

“Yeah, ten years down the road it’ll just be you, him, and the rest of the Tomlinson clan,” Stan sniggers. “One big, happy family.”

“We will not. Fuck off.” Though Louis’ not entirely sure who he’s trying to convince here.

“Face it, Tommo,” Niall chirps in. “You can’t live with toddlers and seriously date at the same time, but nice effort. Perseverance in the face of doom shows good character.”

Louis’ friends are annoying as fuck but they might have grounds for an actual valid point. Even if Louis doesn’t like it. And since he’s not a fan of their smug opinions, instead of disagreeing and saying that Harry has the potential to be the kindest and most accepting man Louis’ ever dated, he stomps on their feet beneath the table and steals both of their lunches for his own.

Serves them right for being a pair of Negative Nancies.

Later that night, Louis is so focused on artfully disheveling his hair in the mirror to match all the scruff along his jawline that he nearly misses the sound of his phone vibrating on the bed.

 _‘Can’t wait to see you!_ ’

Louis lets that little confession from Harry feed right into the excitement he’s been keeping in check all evening as he hurries to respond.

‘ _I can’t wait to see you either! Leaving to meet you in just a min._ ’

Harry types back just as quickly. ‘ _Still won’t tell me where we’re going?_ ’ he asks just as he has ever since Monday night when Louis told him he’d just got them tickets to something and he’s not allowed to know what for. ‘ _Come onnn_ ,’ Harry sends followed by another text. ‘ _Just a tiny little hint?’_

Louis glances at the tickets on his dresser and bites down on a grin when he thinks of the perfect hint and hits send.

 

They meet up on Levitt Street down just two blocks from the place they’re headed. Harry shows up dressed way more casual than he did for last weekend’s dinner date. He’s no less gorgeous for it, still wearing a button up but less formally with the front half-open and the sleeves rolled up. It’s paired with an old pair of jeans and comfortable-looking shoes. Perfect for the evening they’re in for.

“Alright, I’ve been racking my brain the whole way here trying to figure out what a smiley with its tongue sticking out has to do with anything,” Harry says as they greet one another in a tight hug. He smells amazing just like last time Louis notes. “The time has come to reveal the great mystery. Where are we going?”

 “What, no elaborate theories?” Louis grins.

“For wagging tongues? Either a pet shop or Miley Cyrus’ house?” Harry snorts making Louis do the same as he hands Harry the two tickets he pulls from his wallet. Watching Harry’s eyebrows knit together as he reads is only half as fun as watching him turn that perplexed expression on Louis when he’s finished.

“What’s a Role-ing Clone?”

“It’s a Rolling Stones tribute band!” Louis exclaims so loudly that he startles everyone near them. Thankfully, no one seems to really care. Least of all, Harry, who blinks at the tickets and then his phone before bursting into a cackle that’s twice as loud. Louis knew he’d get it. Actually, Harry looks down-right impressed.

“I have literally _no_ idea what’s about to happen, but I’m excited to find out,” he smiles.

The two of them dancing like idiots and shouting the lyrics to _Start Me Up_ until they’re hoarse is what’s about to happen. Louis has never been more ready to make a complete and utter fool of himself.

*

The volume in the little club Harry walked into an hour and half ago is the loudest its been all night with the band playing _Satisfaction_. It doesn’t help that there are far more people crowded into the space than is probably allowed, and yet, somehow Harry’s and Louis’ voices overpower all the others.

It’s easily the most fun Harry has had on a date; possibly even the dates that weren’t technically work. A quick look to Harry’s left shows that he’s not the only one having a great time. Louis hasn’t stopped dancing since the band started playing. Sometimes he’s not even dancing at all and defaults to bouncing around to the beat regardless of anyone else watching him. Unless there’s a heavy amount of alcohol involved, usually, Harry steers away from acting like a fool in public. But, for some reason, tonight he’s made an exception. Harry can’t figure out if it’s the amazing band, the cold beer in his hand, or the infectious energy radiating off Louis’ smile that’s got him feeling so comfortable. It could very well be a mixture of the three, but he’s willing to bet it’s mostly due to his date.

“I’m getting another beer! Want one?” Louis asks over the ending chords of what happens to be one of Harry’s favorite songs ever. Clearly, it’s one of Louis’ favorites too when he briefly faces the band again to cheer and applaud them when the song ends. “Sorry. Another beer?” he repeats with a chuckles. “Or, maybe some water. They also have wine.”

Harry ticks off his traits like boxes in his mind; polite for offering in the first place, thoughtful for giving choices, and lastly, just plain wonderful for managing to make being so sweaty look so cute.

“I drove, so I’ll just have a water,” Harry explains. Obviously, not quite loud enough when Louis’ brow furrows. The band starts up again so Harry leans in close to Louis to repeat himself; perhaps a little too close if the darkening of Louis’ eyes when he reads Harry’s lips is any indication. “Just water for me. Thanks.”

They’re standing so close that it’s impossible for Louis to not have heard him, and yet, neither of them moves for the longest time. Not until everyone around them starts singing and dancing again and they realize the world hasn’t stopped turning. Eventually, Louis takes a small step back, but not before giving Harry’s waist a squeeze like a promise when he says he’ll be right back.

Harry watches him head over to the bar, feeling himself grin each time he catches Louis glance over his shoulder to make sure he hasn’t disappeared. It’s flattering to know Louis likes him, and also, the exact kind of behavior Harry should be seeing at this stage from someone embarking on a new relationship; soon-to-be embarking on a new life chapter that involves him moving _out_ of his mother’s house and into a place of his own. And speaking of Louis’ mother, like clockwork Harry’s phone vibrates in his back pocket with a new message from her.

‘ _Louis spent forever getting ready and then left in a hurry this evening. Seemed really excited but didn’t give details. Hasn’t mentioned he’s seeing someone new. Good sign?_ ’

 _Great_ sign, Harry thinks as he texts Jay exactly that. Louis was looking forward to tonight. He’s into Harry, so much so that he’s still keeping Harry all to himself. It could be because Louis’ not that serious about him so he doesn’t really feel the need to shout it from the rooftops, however it’s far more likely that he is serious and he just wants to be sure before all the shouting starts. 

The Role-ing Clones entertain them well into the night, but once it starts getting late Harry suggests that he and Louis skip out on the last few songs. They definitely need the fresh air after breathing in the stuffiness of the club for so long. Also, the two of them mostly communicated in shouted lyrics and laughter all night; conditions that aren’t optimal for really getting to know someone.

They’re hand-in-hand as they head back down Levitt Street to where they met up. Harry doesn’t miss the fact that Louis has significantly slowed their pace from the beginning of the night when he was so excited for the show that they practically ran there. Now, things feel so unhurried; so easy that all Harry has to do is mention his own sister for Louis to open up about his own family. He smiles more talking about them than he ever did back at the club. Harry didn’t even think that was possible.

“So, uh,” Louis grins when they reach Harry’s car. “Any more fun plans for the rest of the weekend?”

“You mean something as fun as a Role-ing Clones concert? No way,” Harry jokes with a grin.

It’s just small talk. Or, maybe Louis is genuinely interested in his plans, but Harry doubts it with how warm his palm has become against Harry’s and the way Louis’ eyes keep betraying him by focusing on Harry’s lips.

Harry forgoes opening his car door and leans against it instead. It’s a direct invitation that Louis doesn’t hesitate accepting, finally leaning in to gently capture Harry’s lips. The pressure; just right, and their slow pace is perfection. Harry can’t pretend it isn’t easily one of the top ten kisses he’s ever had fake or otherwise. Possibly even top five. He’s almost sad to have to end it, but, _carrot_.

“Goodnight,” Harry whispers, enjoying the half-devastated groan Louis makes when they break apart.

“Goodnight.” Louis’ jaw tenses with a dumb grin that he keeps mostly in check when he sneaks another heated kiss in lieu of opening Harry’s door. Eventually, he does open the door for him and then kindly shuts it with Harry inside. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Aw, my Saturday’s pretty booked. Family thing,” Harry laments- _lies_. Not that Louis lets that deter him.

“Okay, Sunday then,” he proposes, his smile growing just as quickly as Harry’s.

“Alright. What do you want to do?”

“Anything. I don’t care, I just want to see you.”

For Louis to be a fake boyfriend, the tiny butterflies in Harry’s stomach right now seem awfully real. “Alright then,” Harry chuckles. “I’ll see you Sunday. We’ll spend all day doing whatever we want. Nothing and everything all at once.” At two dates in and still no new clues into his client’s actions, it’s about time for a crisis anyway. Sunday’s as good a day as any.

“It’ll be a Sunday to remember,” Louis jokes back, unaware of just how truly accurate that statement is.

*

Louis finds himself practically bouncing down the stairs on Sunday afternoon on his way to the bluegrass music festival Harry managed to score passes to at the last minute. His eldest siblings are effectively destroying the kitchen by trying to copy a recipe from Great British Baking (and _failing_ from the burnt smell of things) and his younger ones run and tackle him into a hug on his way to the front door, and he’s just fine with it. Nothing can be wrong when he’s about to spend the day with a perfect someone who Louis can’t get enough of.

“See you, mum!” he waves at his mother on the sofa. She blinks up from her laptop with a look of intrigue when she notices him grabbing his keys and checking his reflection in the little mirror near the door.

“Going somewhere, I guess?” she asks.

Louis can’t help grinning like an idiot at his own reflection.

“ _Yes_ ,” he chuckles.

“…Going to see someone who _isn’t_ Niall or Stan?” It’s more of a statement than a question really.

“That would also be correct,” Louis answers, turning from the mirror just in time to see his mother’s face when he finally spills. “I met somebody,” he blurts out, relishing the relief that comes from finally getting to say it. “I know, I know. I didn’t tell you sooner because I didn’t want to jinx it.” But, with the way things are going with Harry, Louis can’t be blamed for being excited about him.

“So, the big mystery is finally revealed,” she grins, looking completely unsurprised to find out it’s a boy that has had Louis floating on air. “So, do you see this potentially going somewhere? Do you like him?”

Like him? That’s a fucking understatement.

“God, he’s so great, mum. Almost too good to be true! I’m just going now to meet him at this little music festival he heard about and-” Louis pauses his gushing when his phone vibrates with a call from none other than Harry. “Oh- Here he is now,” Louis whispers to his mother before answering the phone with a cool and collected, ‘ _Hey, you’._

Louis expects for Harry to say it back any moment, but all Louis hears coming through the receiver is a devastated sniffle followed by the worst news Harry could’ve gotten on a day that was just about to be the greatest. “ _Shit_ ,” Louis laments, making his mother raise a stern eyebrow when his two youngest siblings giggle across the room. Her eyes are concerned though, so Louis meets them to wordlessly let her know it’s nothing too serious, even though it does suck. “Harry, I’m so sorry to hear that, and yes, of course I will. Just tell me where and I’m on my way,” Louis promises, already half-way out the door.

*

“Okay,” Harry tearfully sniffs into the phone. “Thank you, Louis. And- And, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you being there for me... and for Ginger.”

Harry hangs up the phone when Louis does and quickly types out the address of the veterinarian’s office just a few blocks away. Louis sends him a message back confirming his arrival in the next twenty minutes meaning Harry needs to make one more quick call. The phone rings a few times before someone finally picks up.

“North Pet Clinic, this is Dr. Payne speaking.”

“Hey, Li! How’s work?” Harry greets his flatmate without so much as a tremble in his voice.

“No scratches or bites yet. Can’t complain,” Liam says over several dogs barking in the background. “You?”

So far today all Harry’s job has required him to do is watch Friends on the sofa and fake cry over a fictional cat named Ginger. For which he’ll accept his Oscar at any time. “Eh, not too bad. I was just calling to see if you have any timeslots for me.”

Harry can practically see his flatmate rolling his eyes over the phone. “Oh, yeah, how could I forget,” he snorts. “ _Crisis Day_.”

Liam says it like it’s ineffective or something when Harry has found that being able to provide sound emotional support during a personal crisis is one of the key traits of his most successful clients. Works like a charm.

“Louis will be there and ready to see me through the euthanizing of my old family cat, Ginger, in less than twenty minutes,” Harry confirms. “What do you have for me?”

“Well, it’s Sunday so I’m fresh out of orange cats. I don’t have any cats in general,” Liam tells him. This is not good. “ _But_ , I do have a twelve-week-old rabbit named Luna who’s about to be spayed. She’s with the anesthesiologist now.”

That means she’ll be out cold by the time Harry and Louis get there and will stay that way long after they’re gone. And sure, she’s no cat and she’s probably not orange because that’s not a thing, but she’ll have to do. He’ll just have to improvise.

“I’ll take it,” Harry beams. His sister’s allergic to cats anyway. Wouldn’t make sense.

*

The staff at North Pet Clinic offer Harry grins of familiarity when he arrives and stops by the check-in kiosk to Miriam as per usual.

“Here to see Dr. Payne again?” she asks knowingly, sliding her glasses off the bridge of her nose to smile at him.

“I am,” Harry grins noting the slight sparkle in Miriam’s eyes at his answer.

“Mmm. And yet, you have no sick pet. Strange,” she tuts, and yet, her sharp, matchmaker eyes have never noticed how strange it is that each time Harry drops in for a visit he leaves with a different man who is _not_ Liam. “You know, Harry, if you like Dr. Payne so much, I’m sure you could just tell him that. He is quite a reasonable, kind young man and he seems quite fond of you too,” she explains making Harry fight back a laugh at the thought of him and Liam together as anything besides flatmates turned best friends... and on certain occasions like today, co-workers.

“You’re absolutely right, Miriam. I’ll have to admit my feelings for that wonderful man one of these days,” Harry sighs once he’s managed to contain himself and remember that Miriam is just trying to help. “Uh- Oh, and by the way, Miriam, I have a friend stopping by. He should be here soon so if you could please direct him to surgery?” Harry asks, grinning when Miriam gives a kind nod in response.

Harry finds his way to surgery the same way he has countless times before. When he walks in Liam is already there wearing his white veterinarian’s jacket prepping to do a quick procedure on the fluffy grey rabbit lying asleep on the operating table.

“Awww! It’s so cute and cuddly,” Harry gasps, making his best friend roll his eyes.

“You’re supposed to be devastated, remember? We need tears not oohs and ahhs.”

He’s right. Louis will be here any minute and Harry doesn’t even look like he’s in the middle of a crisis. It takes a moment for Harry to get over how fucking adorable rabbits are in order to look sad and grab the half-empty water bottle sitting on the counter to wet his eyes.

“ _Hey_. I was drinking that,” Liam frowns.

“Shut up, I’ll get you another one,” Harry promises just as the surgery door swings open to reveal Louis dressed for a music festival (and looking amazing, if Harry does say so himself) and nearly out of breath from the run he must have taken to get here.

“Haz! I got here as fast as I could. Is it too late?”

“No, you’re just in time. Thanks for coming,” Harry sniffs, taking Louis’ hand when it’s offered.

“Of course, love,” Louis says, stepping forward to gently wipe at Harry’s cheeks. “I’m here for you _and_ Ginger.” A glance at the operating table makes Louis blink at it in confusion. “And…um, _where_ is she exactly?” he asks

“Er- She’s right here of course,” Harry sniffs again. “My sweet rabbit, Ginger, I’ve had since I was a kid. I just can’t believe it, you know? All those years.”

Louis frowns deeply but not about the math concerning Harry’s indestructible childhood pet. “Wait, I thought you said it was a cat over the phone?”

Liam turns to Harry with the same sort of innocent curiosity and expectancy. _Prick._

“Oh. Er- No… I just meant Ginger’s so loving that she’s _like_ a cat. Yeah,” Harry amends. “So curious and affectionate... I was crying so I was probably hard to understand.” 

“Right,” Louis says skeptically, still looking a bit unsure. “But, if she’s _grey_ then why’s her name-?”

“Ginger root!” Harry blurts out. “It’s her favorite treat. Or, I mean, it _was_ ,” he croaks out allowing his fake sniffles to morph into a fake, wet sob that puts Louis’ attention back on him rather than his grey, poorly-named, ginger-eating pet rabbit who’s really named Luna. Details.

“Oh, babe, come here. I’m so sorry,” Louis says as he pulls Harry into his arms to cradle him. “Doctor? If you don’t mind, I think we can go ahead and, _you know_ ,” he mumbles under his breath. “Please. It’s time to let her go.”

Louis’ unexpected yet respectful request almost makes Harry forget his fake crying routine hearing Louis take the initiative with such a delicate and important moment when most clients let Harry blubber into hysterics until he’s forced to make the executive decision himself due to his clients being in over their heads. While comforting him, Louis assessed the situation, realized Harry was overwhelmed, and eased the process for him by taking charge. Harry would find that level of presence and sense of self hot if not for their current location surrounded by the barks, meows, and caws of a dozen animals along with a drugged-up rabbit.

Harry pulls back to look at Louis, finding nothing but sympathy and warmth in his blue eyes as he cradles Harry’s face in both hands.

“Thanks,” Harry whispers with a relieved sigh.

“Aw, don’t mention it, love. Besides, she’ll be at peace now,” Louis tells him with optimism in the tiny grin he’s wearing to try and cheer Harry up. “In ginger root/carrot heaven.”

The fact that Harry finds that ridiculously cute nearly causes him to laugh when he’s supposed to be mourning is only half as problematic as the little skip his heart makes when Louis presses the softest kiss ever on Harry’s lips. 

 

It’s nearly half an hour later and Harry’s still kind of amazed with Louis and the finesse with which he has handled every curveball Harry has tried to throw him. Even Liam looked impressed seeing Louis handle Crisis Day like a pro. Louis’ kind of amazing. It’s been weeks now and Harry still can’t quite figure him out which would ordinarily be cause for alarm. But, honestly, Harry’s fine with it. Spending time with Louis and getting to learn a little more about him each day doesn’t even feel like work. Harry actually looks forward to it.

Their hands are linked between them as they continue on down the street they started strolling down after Louis suggested they get some fresh air. Harry hadn’t expected that. He thought for sure Louis would want to head downtown to the music festival to try and catch a few of the good bands before it ends like most of Harry’s clients would, but Louis hasn’t mentioned it once. Ever since they left the pet clinic, he’s been completely lovely, telling funny stories about the puppy he had at age seven who drove his mother so crazy they had to find him a new home.

They walk until Harry stops them just outside his building.

“Well, this is me,” Harry says with a glance up at the fifth floor, feeling weirdly disappointed they made it here so quick. Louis holds both of Harry’s hands in his, promising that if Harry needs anything at all he’ll be back here in a flash, but for some bizarre reason, Harry doesn’t want him to go in the first place.

It makes no sense. Boundaries are the key element to what Harry does. Home and work are such completely separate parts of his life that no client of his has ever even seen the outside of Harry’s place let alone been offered an invitation to come inside. And yet, Harry can’t manage to stop himself from blurting one out when Louis turns to leave.

“Hey, would you, uh, like to maybe come up for a bit? I was watching Friends.”

Louis seems just as surprised as Harry to hear him ask that. He glances from Harry to his building with uncertainty, only allowing himself to sport a small grin when Harry does.

“Okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

In Louis’ fantasy of what his Sunday was going to be like, he’d pictured himself and Harry wasting the day away at a bluegrass music festival shoving greasy food down their throats, dancing away to the sound of banjos and songs they didn’t know, and kissing in-between each set of all the bands they’ve never heard of. It was going to be amazing; perfect really. None of that actually happened of course. Their day landed them inside a pet clinic of all places and the happy smile Louis had been looking forward to seeing on Harry’s face wasn’t there, but even with their plans slightly dampened, Louis wouldn’t call it a waste of a day because in the end, they still spent it together.

No one including Louis could do much for Ginger (which Louis maintains is a weird fucking name for a solid grey rabbit), but he _was_ able to be there for Harry which was most important. Louis hadn’t expected it afterwards on their walk to Harry’s flat when he invited Louis up to his place. Not that it led to anything more than the two of them curled up together on Harry’s sofa watching movies, but it was still nice. It’s been days since then and Louis can still smell Harry’s cologne in his nose whenever he thinks about him; can still feel the weight Harry’s head on his shoulder and his breath tickling Louis’ skin as they fell asleep.

With the trying day Harry had, Louis couldn’t blame him for needing some comfort in the form of cuddles. He simply wanted to be distracted from his loss, which is precisely why on Wednesday afternoon Louis can’t wait to shoot off the text message he’s composing to his boyfriend who should be getting home from work any minute now.

‘ _Hey, you. How are you feeling today?’_

Harry answers him back almost immediately. Good sign. ‘ _I’m doing okay. Much better since the garden funeral at my mum’s. And the beautiful flowers you sent of course. You’re too sweet.’_

Louis’ stomach has become accustomed to doing all kinds of weird flips and turns when it comes to Harry, and him saying amazing things like that only makes it worse.

 _‘Glad you liked them. Just wanted to make you smile,’_ Louis admits before working up the nerve to send his next message. ‘ _Listen,_ _I want to take you somewhere if you’re up for it. Somewhere fun... If you don’t already have plans of course.’_

The seconds that pass while Louis watches Harry’s dialogue bubbles dance are the worst.

‘ _You mean besides my plans to see you?_ ’ Harry sends officially putting operation ‘Cheer Up Harry’ into action.

‘ _Great! So, my friends and I are meeting at Greenway Park in an hour! Wear layers; long sleeves, long pants, gloves if you’ve got them. And, you wouldn’t happen to have any combat boots, would you?_ ’ Louis asks, taking Harry’s halted response as a no. ‘ _Don’t even worry about it! I’ve got extras!’_

 

“You sure he’s actually going to show up?” Niall mutters after a glance at his phone.

“The better question is are you sure he actually exists,” Stan smirks.

Louis rolls his eyes, checking his own phone to confirm that it’s not even ten till. “Harry _exists_ and he’ll be here. Any minute now,” he assures his friends just as he spots the person he’s been waiting for approaching from across the field. _Right on time_.

“See ya!” Louis aims a smug grin towards his friends before jogging past the paintball course to meet Harry and the person walking next to him who looks suspiciously familiar.

“You made it!” Louis beams, thrilled to see an even brighter smile on Harry’s face.

“Well, you were so cryptic earlier I couldn’t resist,” he laughs. “Paintball? Seriously?” There are dozens of people around and Louis forgets about every one of them when he pulls Harry in for a quick kiss hello. “Had no idea you were so fearless and sporty,” Harry grins against his lips.

“Well, if I knew rainbow paint and bruises were your thing I would’ve invited you sooner,” Louis teases before stepping back. “Don’t worry, love. It’s going to be a piece of cake. I’m reigning champion around here which makes _you_ champion by association. We’re gonna crush them.”

“ _If_ I’m even on your team,” Harry grins back. “We may want our own victory.”

Just the thought of some good competition between the two of them sends little sparks down Louis’ spine. Little sparks that fizzle out when Louis replays that last sentence in his mind. “Wait. We?”

“Yeah. We as in Liam and I!” Harry explains with a nudge to his friend’s arm. Once again, Louis’ attention is drawn to the man at Harry’s side whom Louis _knows_ he’s seen somewhere. For some reason fur and dog biscuits come to mind?

“Wait a minute, isn’t he-?”

“Dr. Payne,” Harry interjects, confirming Louis’ suspicion. “I called him earlier to thank him for all he did the other day and well, we got to chatting, I told him about the park, and by the time we hung up he decided he’d like to come with! Er- I hope that’s alright?”

Bizarre is the word that comes to mind. “So… you invited the guy who put your rabbit to _sleep_?” he says slowly.

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Harry chuckles. “I figured it was the least I could do, right?”

It’s definitely the _weirdest_ thing he could do Louis thinks as he looks between Harry and the kind-eyed veterinarian who merely shrugs as if this is all pure, normal coincidence.

“Er- Yeah _._ The more the merrier of course,” Louis says, before reaching out a hand towards Liam, elderly rabbit executioner and apparently his boyfriend’s newest _friend_. “Welcome, mate. Er- _Doctor_.”

“Thanks,” he grins back. “And I’m not on call at the moment, so Liam is just fine.”

Louis is fine with whatever he prefers to be called as long as they all get to shoot stuff in the very near future. “Well, gentlemen, now that we’re all here and acquainted, let’s paint the enemy rainbow, shall we? And by the enemy, I mean _you two_.”

The only thing that gets his blood pumping more than the prospect of paintball is the over-confident, smug grin Harry’s wearing that says he’s going to give Louis a run for his money.

*

Harry raises an eyebrow at the heavy helmet in his hands, glancing over at Liam who’s doing the same thing.

“How do people see while wearing these let alone aim and shoot?” Liam mutters as he struggles to slide the helmet over his head.

“I’m not sure but I think we’re going to find out,” Harry chuckles at his friend still warring with all his borrowed equipment. Harry steals a peek at everyone else successfully getting suited up near them, catching Louis’ gaze and flirty grin just a few yards away.

Harry waves back, unable to stop himself from smiling like an idiot when Louis stands up from where he was tying up his camouflage boots and winks before sliding on his own helmet with ease.

“I can’t believe you’re making us do this,” Liam sighs as Harry slides on his helmet too.

“It’s a meet the friends date, and as usual, you’re my friend. I need you.”

Meeting the friends is a crucial step in any relationship. It’s like a test drive and it only works if all parties involved approve. So far, Louis’ best mates seem to like him a lot which will be key in getting Louis on board with making a major life change like moving out of his mum’s house. Louis seems to be warming up to Liam too now that he’s not euthanizing anything.

Liam rolls his eyes at Harry’s explanation. “Yeah, yeah, I know he needs to see that you’re just as invested as him, but _paintball_ , Haz? Really? We’ve never even played.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Li. It’s going to be fun!” Harry beams from beneath his helmet before giving Liam’s helmet a firm tap. “It’s all about strategy and the trigger finger-roll technique, just like Louis told us. The bullets are made of paint. How hard could it be?”

“We’re going to get fucking slaughtered,” his flatmate mumbles, but picks up his gun anyway.

 

Harry was _wrong_. Horribly and terribly wrong he realizes as soon as the fog horn blows to start the game and all his talk of strategy and technique went flying right out the window. Shots began flying right at Harry’s head before he could even get a good look at where the opposing team was shooting from so his only defense was crouching behind an inflatable wall with Liam as an extra shield, praying not to be ambushed.

“What happened to the rest of our team?!” Liam shrieks over the sound of shots hitting the other side of their wall.

“You mean _, Stan_?” Harry shouts back. “No idea!” Stan definitely got the short end of the stick being paired with them. If he’s smart he’ll have found a good place to wait out the storm just like Harry and Liam, but based on the roaring cackle they hear after one of their opponents lets out an angry growl, Stan’s actually fighting back.

Harry and Liam brave a peek around their wall a second later, both their jaws hanging open at the sight of Niall swearing and walking off the course splattered head to toe in bright yellow paint.

“That’s going to be us soon except we’ll be covered in pink and it’s going to be so much worse,” Liam gulps beside him, and he’s not wrong. Niall got very close to them before Stan took him out; too close in Harry’s opinion, meaning Louis can’t be far behind.

“Maybe Stan will shoot Louis too and then we’ll win and it’ll all be over,” Liam says just as they hear Stan groan before thudding to the ground from wherever he was perched before Louis found him.

He too slumps off the course like Niall did covered in bright pink just as Liam predicted, leaving Harry and Liam virtually defenseless. Louis’ probably right on top of them. He could attack at any moment.

“ _Shit_. Where is he? What do we do now?” Liam asks with his brown eyes stretched wide in fear.

Harry answers with the only thing he can think of that might save them. “RUN! EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!”

The course is huge, so Harry has no idea where he’s running to exactly, but he needs a new cover; someplace that isn’t wherever Niall and Stan were hiding. He finds it inside of a narrow tunnel that he’s just able to crawl to the middle of, hoping Louis won’t think to look for him there.

Harry doesn’t dare make a sound inside his little safe bubble. Not like Liam who can be heard begging for mercy before a round of well-aimed paintballs make him groan in defeat.

That was his last teammate meaning it’s now just him and Louis on the course. The course that Louis knows like the back of his hand so the tunnel is probably the first place he’s going to look. Harry crawls out the other side of it catching a glimpse of a sad, bubblegum-colored Liam dragging himself off the course and Louis who charges after Harry the moment they spot one another.

In a moment of blind panic, Harry fires his gun, making Louis freeze when a series of yellow paintballs miss him by mere centimeters. All of which was complete beginner’s luck which is why Harry takes off running half of a second later. “T-That was…an accident!” he shouts over his shoulder, hoping Louis doesn’t decide to retaliate with too much force.

Again, there’s nowhere to go that Louis doesn’t know so Harry ends up at a dead end between two inflatable walls, heart thudding in his ears when he turns around to find Louis slowly walking towards him.

Louis could slaughter him in the time it would take Harry just to properly aim his gun so he tries a different, gentler approach; a _desperate_ approach.

“Now, Louis. _Babe_ , let’s talk about this,” he tries as Louis continues taking steps towards him. Harry keeps his hands where Louis can see them and carefully lowers his gun. He raises the bottom half of his helmet in the same fashion, prompting Louis to do the same. “Now, that’s better, yeah? We can look each other in the eye and handle this like mature adults since it’s just a silly little game and all. We’ll have a little er- conflict resolution of sorts.”

Harry breathes a nervous chuckle when Louis comes toe to toe with him. Louis grins as he uses his free hand to guide Harry’s chin down to his level to bring their lips together in a slow kiss that has Harry’s stomach flutter like mad. Harry’s more than a little dazed when Louis pulls back wearing a smirk that makes Harry want to lean in for a replay, but just as he does, a trigger clicks. Harry feels a sharp sting to his right thigh, glancing down his body to watch pink paint flood down his jeans.

Harry can feel his jaw hanging in disbelief when Louis smacks a wet kiss to it with his eyes so triumphant they’re dazzling.

“Conflict resolved. Glad we had that chat, love.”

Losing isn’t usually Harry’s thing. In fact, if it weren’t for the tingle in Harry’s lips that still hasn’t faded from their kiss or the butterflies in his stomach that didn’t even stop for a bullet, he’d be annoyed at having been so ruthlessly bested. Currently, Harry’s just impressed and kind of turned on. Carrot.

 

“So, did you get what you needed? Was meet the friends day a success?” Liam asks him after they’ve stripped out of their paint covered battle gear and are heading back towards Harry’s car parked on the other side of the park.

Harry glances over his shoulder to find Louis still watching him leave and his two best friends teasing the shit out of him for missing one-hundred percent of their conversation because of it.

“I think so,” Harry grins. “I feel quite confident that I’m currently getting the seal of approval from the friends and Louis’ doing an absolutely amazing job with all of this. I’ve never had a client fly through the steps as quickly as him. It’s incredible.” It’s only been a few weeks so Harry’s still figuring him out, but so far, he finds no faults. Harry realizes after a moment that Liam has stopped talking and is merely staring at the side of his face with the most peculiar expression. “ _What?_ ”

“Haz, you like Louis, don’t you?”

Harry fondly rolls his eyes at his flatmate. “Well, yeah, I’ve told you he’s a pretty easy case. One of the easiest I’ve ever had. What’s not to like?”

“No, no. I mean you _like_ him. As in genuinely and not just a client,” Liam elaborates. Harry tries rolling his eyes again at the claim, but Liam doesn’t let him deny it. “You smiled literally the entire time you were with him.”

“I was also with other people and _you_ , my best friend,” Harry points out.

“Yeah, but you don’t smile like that with me; with anyone, really,” he adds after a beat. “I don’t know, Haz. You’re different with Louis. It kind of feels like you’re _actually_ dating him.”

And to Harry, that _sounds_ like a load of shit. Or, at least, it _should_ be a load of shit except Harry does feel slightly different lately; sunnier, lighter, happier. Which are all great personal developments in his life but not if it’s because of a client. If that’s the case, then those feelings inside of Harry are highly problematic.

“Look, Li, I’m different with Louis than I am with you because I’m _working_ with Louis,” he chuckles. “That’s literally all it is. Work. In fact, since today went so well with meeting his friends, I think I’m going to move things up a few steps to accelerate the process. For our next date, I’m going to let him _teach_ me something. He says he plays piano. I’ll tell him I want to learn too.” Nothing builds commitment like patience and trust while navigating new territory. Or listening to someone butcher sheet music until it’s practically unrecognizable. It’s going to be fun.

 

On Friday, Harry finds that his prediction of him clanking out random notes and calling it music wasn’t wrong. The music shop just down the street from Spin Junkies has been the lucky recipient of a free concert all afternoon thanks to the old grand piano they hijacked. Louis’ playing is beautiful. It’s near perfect really even though he smiles and blushes the whole time claiming he’s not that good and hasn’t practiced in years. That’s complete bullshit of course, but Harry doesn’t call him on it. Much.

“Is there anything you _can’t_ do?” Harry asks after he unlocks yet another talent Louis was keeping under locks by jokingly demanding that he sing as well. He hadn’t expected Louis to be fucking _amazing_. And somehow, even after just fully serenading an entire shop he’s wearing that same modest grin like he isn’t incredible.

“Eh. I had a few lessons when I was young,” he shrugs. “Guess it’s like riding a bike.”

Yet another subtle mention of Louis’ childhood; an invitation for Harry to know him better. Slowly but surely letting him in.

“When you were young, huh?” Harry grins “How old were you?” He was adorable, Harry’s sure.

“I was about five. _Small_ ,” he laughs. “Could just reach the keys from the bench.”

“Oh,” Harry frowns. “So, nothing’s changed then?”

Harry yelps when his side is pinched, but the pain is quickly assuaged when Louis pulls him into a kiss much more thoughtful and slower than those first kisses they shared that were mostly just nerves and tension. These days, Louis takes his time with him. There’s caring and a sincerity behind his touch. It feels serious between them. Harry would dare say Louis’ becoming _committed_.  

It’s one of the most crucial steps in this whole process and usually takes a lot longer. Usually, Harry’s clients need to be coaxed out of their shells, but that confidence has been evident in Louis from day one. It’s what draws Harry into him so easily and also, what makes him question if he really does likes Louis the way Liam thinks. This is the moment of truth. This is the moment where all their groundwork together pays off.

“Lou?”

“Yeah, babe?” Louis asks, pulling back enough for Harry to catch a glimpse of his smile. He leans right back in to connect their lips, forcing Harry to ignore the way his stomach flutters to life.

“Er- I- I wanted to ask you something,” he manages between kisses. “Something important.”

Louis must hear the softness in Harry’s voice, pulling back this time to look Harry in the eyes.

“Alright,” he smiles before dropping a kiss to the back of Harry’s hand. “I’m listening, love. What’s up?”

Here they go.

“What are you doing on Sunday?”

Louis’ smile just grows wider. “Why? You miss me already?” he teases.

“Well we both know I live to spend _every_ waking moment with you,” Harry teases back. “…But, seriously. I was thinking that maybe this Sunday could involve _more_ than just the two of us,” he says hopefully.

“You mean another paintball session with the boys?” Louis smirks.

“Uh, not exactly. More like... an evening with your mum? _Dinner_ , more specifically,” Harry explains with a big smile. “It’s just- I’ve just heard so much that I’d absolutely love to meet her, babe! You can invite her over to yours and I can finally see your place as well! Won’t that be great? Lou?”

It’s obvious from Louis’ slackening jaw that he has a word in mind to describe that meeting, but _great_ probably isn’t it.

“Erm-”

*

“I have to break up with Harry,” Louis sighs at the basket of half-eaten chips parallel to his head on the table. He assumes Stan and Niall also hear his announcement though they give no indication of it besides a simultaneous roll of their eyes. “Oi. Are you two listening to me?” Louis demands kicking at their shins. Honestly, is there no loyalty anymore? Does no one care that Louis’ love life is going up in fucking flames?

Niall kicks Louis back with impeccable aim before letting out a bored sigh. “Not that we care, but what exactly are you on about this time?”

“Um, Harry wanting to meet my _mum_. At my _house_.”

“Don’t you mean, at your mum’s house?” Stan sniggers. He’s slightly less annoying a second later when Louis drops his head to the table again and groans. “So what if he wants to meet her? Just bring him home like every other guy you’ve dated.”

“Because that’s gone so well all the other times,” Louis snips at him. “I can’t just _bring_ Harry home.”

“Uh, and why not?” Niall asks with an eyebrow arched high.

“Because, Ni, he’s- Harry is- He’s…” Unlike anybody Louis’ ever met let alone brought home. He’s different. _Special_. And Louis knows as soon as he sets foot inside his mother’s house, he’s going to run for the hills just like every other person Louis has dated. “I don’t want to lose him. You know… yet,” Louis mutters after a while, watching his friends’ eyes soften for the first time since they all sat down. He only just got Harry.

“Oi. Who said anything about either of you losing somebody, huh?” Stan asks, gently kicking Louis’ feet with his own. “Harry’s just as pathetically love-sick as you, mate. Witnessed it first-hand.”

“Yeah, both of you light up at the sight of each other. It’s disgusting. Made me so sick it threw off my paintball skills.”

“Yeah, because _that’s_ why you lost 0-6. Makes _total_ sense,” Louis smirks, but he’s back to sighing again just a couple of seconds later.

“You really do like him, don’t you?” Niall asks sincerely. Louis nods, unsure as to why he feels so strongly about Harry. He just _does_.

“I do.”

“And, you say he’s different from all the others?”

“I know he is,” Louis answers truthfully.

“Good,” Niall grins, looking weirdly proud of Louis for some reason he chooses not to disclose before kicking Louis under the table again. “Then have a little faith, and let him prove it to you.”

Yeah, have faith that Harry won’t dump him flat the moment he realizes Louis’ a grown man living in his childhood home with two toddlers, two pre-teens, two regular teens, and his mother, all of whom Louis conveniently ‘forgot’ to mention all this time. He might as well start looking for a new boyfriend now.

 

Sunday arrives much quicker than Louis would’ve liked, and with it comes all the dread and sense of impending doom Louis hasn’t been able to shake since Harry decided to take their relationship to the next level. This morning, Louis woke up to a text from Harry that had his chest feeling all light and airy before it quickly turned to lead.  

‘ _Morning, Lou!_ _Can’t wait to see you tonight! Hope your mum likes double chocolate brownies! Xx_ ’

Louis’ mum _does_ like double chocolate brownies is the thing. Louis also knows she’ll be completely smitten over Harry because, honestly, who isn’t? He’s polite, and charming, and thoughtful enough to spend his day baking brownies for someone he’s never even met. Harry is undeniably _amazing_ … and the sound of breathless laughter and feet racing up the stairs followed by two loud crashes reminds Louis that his time with such an undeniably amazing person is _very_ limited.

“Everyone still alive?” Louis asks from his bedroom mirror at the same moment that his mother shouts the question from the kitchen. His three-year-old brother answers for himself and his twin, confirming that they are indeed _not_ dead. Which is brilliant, but Louis can also hear the beginnings of tears forming out in the corridor which is significantly less brilliant. 

Louis pokes his head out of his room to find his youngest siblings untangling themselves from the heap they landed in. He fondly shakes his head as he helps them to their feet and checks them over for serious injuries. There aren’t any as their high-pitched laughs confirm when Louis tickles them.

“And what’s probably the safest way to travel on staircases?”

“ _Walking_ ,” they answer brightly in unison wearing matching smiles that never fail to melt Louis’ heart. “We’re sorry,” his sister says.

“Don’t be sorry, love, just be careful, yeah?” They nod, though Louis’ sure he or someone else in the house will be helping them off the floor again at some point or another. “Alright, you two. Dinner’s not ready quite yet so you’ve got time to play some more. _Safely,”_ Louis adds, watching them run off towards the older twins’ bedroom to torture them.

It’s during times like this that Louis’ glad to be around and still living at home with his family. Sure, it’s chaos ninety-nine percent of the time with the toys and the noise, and yes, the shower’s constantly clogged from living with so many women and he’s got next to no privacy whatsoever, but he’d miss all of that if he _weren’t_ here. They’re all a team and his mother shouldn’t have to manage it all on her own. Louis stays because it’s easier that way and it’s what his family needs, even if they do drive each other crazy. It’s what he _chooses_ to do. He just not sure that Harry will see it that way.

Louis glances at the time on his phone and sighs because Harry should be here any minute. The closer it gets to six o’clock, the closer Louis gets to being dumped right on his arse, but he’s trying to think positively and ‘have faith’ like his friends suggested. Even if it is the worst plan he’s ever fucking heard of. He heads downstairs to find his mother there putting the finishing touches on the roasted chicken fresh from the oven. Oddly enough, she looks about as anxious as Louis, constantly glancing at her phone too.

“Nervous?” Louis inquires from the doorway, making his mother jump in surprise.

“Louis, you scared me,” she hisses before her expression goes soft. “Oh, you look so nice, love. I’ve always loved that blue on you.”

“Thanks,” Louis sighs, choosing not to tell her he’s essentially dressed for his own funeral; a last supper of sorts.

He sits down at the kitchen table next to Lottie and Felicite who both look up from their phones to give his outfit looks of approval.

“Woah,” Lottie says inspecting Louis hair and his stubble-free jawline. “You really pulled out all the stops. Bringing someone to dinner _and_ a shower?”

“It’s like you’re a different person. Are you even in there under all that aftershave?” Felicite joins in to tease him but Louis’ got nothing. No fast, witty comebacks or retorts to speak of. Louis doesn’t even kick them under the table with how distracted he is by the clock inching closer and closer to his ill-fated date with destiny.  

“So. Do you think he’ll make it to dessert or run before we’ve even passed the potatoes?” Louis asks no one in particular making his mother roll her eyes from across the room.

No one has time to answer his mostly rhetorical question before a knocking at the front door makes the house go silent.

“Are you going to let your boyfriend in to meet everyone, or is he meant to stand on the front step all night?” His mother raises a stern eyebrow that says more than words ever could, forcing Louis up from the table.

The trip to the front door feels like a death march. When Louis reaches it, he merely stares at it until a second round of knocks makes Louis open it. He almost regrets not doing it sooner when Harry smiles at the sight of him.

“Hello,” Harry greets him.

“Hey.”

Harry admires Louis’ dark blue shirt, taking a small step forward to be closer to him. “You look amazing.”

“As do you,” Louis grins, sinking into the kiss they both lean into. For a moment, Louis almost forgets the whole point of Harry being here at his house. That is, until the soft clearing of a throat makes them pause.

 _Shit_.

Slowly, Louis pulls back, wincing before he meets Harry’s gaze. “Uh… there’s someone I’d like for you to meet,” he explains. Before turning around to find the entire Tomlinson household standing in the entryway watching them. “Er- _Seven_ someones,” he amends with a nervous chuckle.

Louis can’t read Harry’s current expression as he takes in Louis’ family. He looks a little surprised, but not necessarily in a _bad_ way. There are minimal signs of panic in his body language and he also hasn’t dropped the plate of brownies in his hands and sprinted back to his car yet so that’s a plus. All wins in Louis’ opinion including the kind grin Harry sports as Louis introduces everyone.

“Harry, this my brother Earnest, my sisters Doris, Phoebe, Daisy, Felicite, Charlotte, and my mum, Johanna.” That list was a fucking mouthful. One Louis doesn’t plan on saying again. “Harry, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Harry.” He contemplates tacking on a quick, ‘it was nice knowing ya,’ but instead of storming off as Louis predicted, Harry steps further into the house.

“It’s so nice to meet you all!” he smiles. “Hope you all are hungry. I brought brownies for dessert. Double chocolate.”

Just the mention of chocolate wins Harry instant favor with his siblings, the eldest of which heroically steps forward to take the plate off their guest’s hands. Louis doesn’t miss her and the others all skipping off together to sneak a nibble. Neither does their mother who declares anybody caught nibbling brownies before dinner won’t get a whole one later. She takes off after them, after a weird exchange where she moves to hug Harry and then apparently thinks better of it, offering him an awkward wave instead.

Strange coming from her, but what blows Louis’ mind more is the fact that Harry is still standing next to him.

“You’re… staying,” Louis says, wondering if the poor man is well when Harry nods.

“Well, _yeah_ ,” he chuckles. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Louis just blinks at him. This has never happened before.

“Uh, maybe because we’re standing in my family’s house where I also live? _With_ them. _Together_.”

“Yeah, I know, babe. I just met them,” Harry chuckles before pressing a quick kiss to Louis’ jaw. “Let’s go see what your mum cooked. It smells _incredible_.”

“Er-” Louis watches Harry’s nose lead him in the same direction as his mum and siblings, without so much as a word about any of the things Louis was so worried about. Still living at home doesn’t seem to be a problem or a deal-breaker. In fact, he seems downright _cool_ about it. Surprising, but also, _ace_.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry meets Jay’s eyes over the plate of brownies at the center of the table that everyone is converging on at once. For nearly an hour she’s been trying to convey something to him, but Harry can’t figure out what. She had tried texting him during dinner, catching the reprimanding gazes of her eldest children who all quickly remind her the ‘no phones at dinner’ rule that _she_ apparently created.

“Babe, would you like a brownie?” Louis asks next to him.

“Hmm?” Harry blinks away from trying to read Jay’s subtly moving lips.

“I asked about dessert,” Louis clarifies, his grin turning to one of suspicion as he follows Harry’s gaze across the table to his mother. “What is it with you two?” he chuckles.

“Nothing,” they deny at the same time which just makes Louis laugh more. Harry tries to diffuse the situation, but gets nowhere. “Er- Your mum and I… We just…”

“Probably have a lot to say about the wonderful person we both have in common,” Jay smiles at her son. “That’s code for we need you to go be busy somewhere else so I can put the kettle on and we can gossip. And _yes_ , there will be lots of embarrassing naked baby photos of everyone involved. You’re all welcome.”

That’s enough to make everyone around the table roll their eyes, including Louis who takes that as a cue to volunteer getting the twins ready for bed.

“I would _never_ play in a toilet bowl or eat scented crayons. Don’t believe a word she says,” Louis tells him, leaning down to press a kiss to Harry’s lips. “I’ll be right back.”

“Kay. Hurry,” Harry smiles, waiting until Louis and all his siblings are out of earshot before whipping around to face Jay. “He ate _crayons_?”

“Oh, only the cherry scented ones, but that’s the least of our worries,” she answers, huffing as she leans forward making Harry lean forward too. “ _This_ is a disaster.”

Harry is largely taken aback by her assessment of the evening. Things are going splendidly.

“What makes you say that? Louis did great with dinner.” Fantastic, actually. “He seems perfectly fine,” Harry shrugs, blinking back again when Jay fixes him with a cross look that all mothers must keep in their repertoire because he’s definitely seen it before. 

“Yes, Louis is fine and that’s exactly the problem. He’s _too_ comfortable. _This_ should be the opposite of comfortable,” she says with circular hand gesture over her head meant to encompass the house and everyone in it. “Let me tell you a little about my son. Whenever he brings anybody home he’s already expecting to break up with them. In fact, I’m pretty sure he does it on purpose like some sort of test and you’re passing it!”

That _would_ make a lot of sense, now that Harry thinks about it.

“Men he dates always leave and that doesn’t really bother him, but I’m pretty sure you’re different and he would make sacrifices to keep you around. However, he’s never going to do that if he’s _fine_ and he thinks _you’re_ fine too, hence, _disaster!_ I love my son to pieces, Harry. I really do, but I’ve also created a manipulative little monster. And that strict program of yours might work with other people, but for Louis you might have to start deviating.”

For reasons Harry can’t explain, hearing it confirmed that Louis likes him so much makes his heart skip a beat. Of course the dopey little grin that tries to grow on his face is halted when his brain registers the rest of what Jay said.

Harry’s never been in this position before. He has a near perfect success rate. His clients aren’t usually this hard to crack or so charming to the point that it should be a fucking crime. Keeping the upper hand with him is nearly fucking impossible. And that’s _before_ he smiles.

“Okay. I can kind of see what you mean,” Harry sighs as tries to come to terms with the fact that he’s crashing and burning here. “Er- But, don’t worry! This is merely a hitch. A very small bump on the road to success. Louis’ doing great and everything is still on track…” he assures Jay. He’ll simply have to up his game is all. Sorted.

 

Jay protests Harry helping cleaning up after dinner; a request Harry kindly ignores of course because whether Harry is there as Louis real boyfriend or a fake one he’s a guest in their home. And also, Jay’s just as easy to talk to as Louis.

After dinner, Louis disappeared upstairs to help his two youngest siblings get ready for bed, but he’s not difficult to locate when Harry ventures upstairs to find him. His voice can be heard at the end of the corridor singing nursery rhymes along with two smaller voices. It’s impossible not to smile. And Harry doesn’t want to intrude or interrupt so he stands just outside the twins’ door to listen in as their last bedtime song ends in bright shrieks and tickles as Louis tucks them in and kisses them goodnight.

Louis closes their door behind him after he steps out, groaning as he realizes he had an audience the whole time.

“You have a lovely voice,” Harry teases just to watch him blush and roll his eyes.

“First of all, _Itsy Bitsy Spider_ is a _classic._ And second, aren’t you and my mum supposed to be busy gossiping about me downstairs?”

Gossiping is a nice, delicate way to describe the kick in the arse Jay just gave him for letting his reverse psychology tactics blow up in his face. “Well, we _were_ gossiping downstairs. But maybe I missed you and wanted a tour of _up_ stairs.”

Louis’ smirk is wicked as he places his hands on either side of Harry’s hips and presses him against the wall with a soft thump. The rush Harry gets from being manhandled almost makes him forget the whole reason he came up here, but it’s hard to up his game when Louis’ game is already in the bloody stratosphere, meaning Harry’s upper hand is officially lost.

“Alright then. We can take a tour,” Louis whispers so close to Harry’s ear that his breath warms his skin. Harry misses the heat when Louis suddenly pulls away. “So, this is the upstairs corridor! Welcome. In it, you can find scenic garage sale paintings, crayon wall doodles courtesy of a two-year-old Phoebe, and more family photographs than any of us can ever remember posing for. Er- Please, sir, don’t touch the exhibit.”

Harry fondly rolls his eyes, running his finger over an old photo of Louis and his eldest sisters at Halloween. He made an adorable lion and Harry finds it much cuter than he should when Louis blushes over it. However, it’s the bedroom door down a few yards away with an L carved into the middle of it that catches Harry’s eye.

“Is that your two eldest sisters’ room? L for Lotts?” Harry asks, watching a grin start to pull at Louis’ lips after he follows Harry’s gaze in that direction.

“No, it’s not,” he reveals even though Harry knows that because he can hear both Lottie and Felicite talking in the bedroom at the end of the corridor.

“Oh. Right,” Harry frowns as he walks towards the door anyway. “So, it must be the older twins’ room. Daze and Phoebes?”

“Sorry to disappoint again, but nope,” Louis chuckles, coming to stand right in front of him. “It’s not their room either.”

“Ah. Must be your mum’s then.”

“Mmm, nice try. But wrong again,” he smiles reaching past him to open the door in question. “I carved that L into the door when I was a moody pre-teen. This is my room.” Harry pokes his head inside of it, instantly recognizing the scent of Louis’ cologne.

“It’s nice,” Harry grins as he follows Louis inside.

He’s still playing tour guide, showing off his extensive record collection and telling Harry little things here and there which is all fine and well, _if_ Harry actually gave a shit that Louis upgraded to a bigger wardrobe and the walls used be fucking seafoam.

Harry pounces on him in the middle of him pointing out all the doodles he made all over his desk as a teenager. They make more than just a thump when Harry backs him against it in a heated kiss. Louis doesn’t seem to mind at all, grinning as he repays the favor by crowding him against his upgraded wardrobe.

The feeling of teeth against flesh makes them both gasp when Louis gets fed up with the doors of his wardrobe making a racket and walks them to his bed instead. The moment they reach the mattress Louis starts pulling at their layers, panting into Harry’s mouth as he frantically works to undo their jeans. “Fuck, Haz. I’ve wanted you since the day we met,” Louis tells him and the admission sets the pit of Harry’s stomach ablaze.

“M-Me too,” Harry pants back. “I wanted you so bad.”

And it’s not even a lie. Despite not meaning to, Harry’s actually hard right now and Louis’ erection pressing against his thigh isn’t helping matters. They could fuck right here and now, and the knowledge of that takes every ounce of willpower Harry possesses to _not_ act on it; to make his brain remember somewhere between Louis dry humping him into the mattress and Harry’s heart racing in his throat that he’s supposed to be the designated carrot in this situation because somehow, this has gotten all mixed up. Carrots don’t get chills from clients’ mouths trailing down their torsos. And carrots also don’t admit out loud that they’ve kind of wanted to fuck their clients since day one, and yet it feels so _right._ It’s just too bad that _right_ isn’t Harry’s job right now.

Louis succeeds in getting his own zipper down before reaching for Harry’s too, his eyes going wide with panic when Harry suddenly stops them.

“ _Wait!_ ”

Louis freezes over him, instantly removing his fingers from around Harry’s waistband with his chest still rising and falling at a rapid rate. “What?” he breathes. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No. _Shhh_ ,” Harry says as multiple footsteps travel down the staircase. The television is playing in the living room and giggles can be heard bubbling up somewhere else in the house as well. Louis’ stares down at him as the sounds of his home continue around them.

“Er- Just ignore them I promise they can’t hear us and the twins sleep like rocks,” he says in a rush before diving back in to connect their lips. However, his efforts just end in more wide-eyed blinking when Harry suddenly sits up at the sound of the floorboards creaking under someone’s weight.

“Lou, your family’s here…” Harry begins softly watching Louis begin to firmly shake his head in denial as if the action alone will stop it from being true.

“N-No, they’re not,” he tries. “Er- I mean, obviously they _are_ , but just- Don’t listen to them.” A valiant effort on Louis’ part, but still, and unfortunately, a no.

“ _Babe_.”

“ _Nooo_ ,” Louis whimpers. “Please, don’t say it.”

“Well, babe, I don’t _want_ to, but it’s just not fair to everybody here. I mean, it’d be different if- Well, if…”

“If what?” Louis presses. “If we wore earplugs to block them out?”

“ _No!_ ” Harry laughs. “If we had our own space of course. A little privacy just for us, you know? Then there’d be nobody around who could listen in. It wouldn’t matter how loud we get,” he smirks. “We could literally do _whatever_ we wanted.”

Louis seems to consider this for a moment before proposing an alternative option. “True. But technically, we could _still_ do whatever we want right here, just really, really quietly.”

Louis raises his eyebrows hopefully. He leans back in when Harry doesn’t instantly veto the idea but just ends up kissing Harry’s cheek rather than his mouth and whines in defeat.

“No, we shouldn’t, love,” Harry sighs disappointedly. “I mean, this is your mum’s house after all and she’s been so lovely... I just wouldn’t feel right about it, you know?”

Louis looks like he’d be just fine with it, but he doesn’t say so.

Instead of letting his face show the complete and utter devastation visible in his eyes, he nods and pastes on a grin that’s just as pained as his waistband looks around his erection that’s still holding strong.

“I can respect that,” Louis says after he reaches down to squeeze himself into surrender. “Good call.”

“Aw, babe, really?”

Harry bites at his lip, hopeful that at this very moment Louis is contemplating moving to a place of his own where this sort of thing won’t happen and he’d be free to fuck Harry face down into the mattress whenever the mood strikes them.

“Really,” Louis answers honestly though he still looks a bit wounded. “We should wait until we have more privacy. You’re completely right.”

“Great!” Harry smiles, smacking a consolation kiss to each side of Louis’ face before scooting towards the head of the bed to sit against the pillows. He pats the space next to him for Louis to join. “Let’s just watch something fun instead and cuddle a bit. You pick since last time I chose Friends.”

“Cuddling. R-Right. _Fun,_ ” he says with a nervous chuckle, swallowing hard when his gaze lands on the bulge still poking at the front of his jeans. “I’ll, uh… my laptop. I’ll just go suck it- _grab_ it. I meant grab. For the movie,” he amends before carefully walking towards his desk.

Once his laptop is in hand, Louis returns. Gingerly, he sits down next to Harry, somehow managing to not wince when he zips up his jeans again. He’s still as rock hard as Harry is and that knowledge is difficult to ignore when they innocently curl up together to watch Mamma Mia and pretend like sex isn’t the only thing on both of their minds.   

 

The soft scent of the pillow under Harry’s head the next morning is so different from the way it should smell; the way it usually smells when Harry falls asleep in his own room and in his own bed… which clearly he did _not_.

The realization hits him like ice water. His eyes fly open once his brain places the familiar scent flooding his lungs and the shape of the sleeping person Harry’s currently curled around. _Fuck_. This is not good. And because his morning just keeps getting worse, Louis chooses that exact moment to turn over, yawn, and blink himself awake to find Harry lying right next to him.

It’s like Louis’ eyes don’t initially believe they’re seeing what they are, but then, a slow grin begins to pull at Louis’ lips and crinkle his tired eyes, and suddenly, Harry forgets why waking up next to him like this was supposed to be such a bad thing.

“Morning,” he rasps in an early morning whisper that awakens the butterflies that seem to live in Harry’s stomach these days.

“Morning,” Harry replies, his breath catching in his throat when Louis slowly leans in and kisses him hello.

Yes, technically Louis’ a client, and _no_ , Harry shouldn’t have fallen asleep at his house. But, it’s difficult to cry over spilled milk or think about the consequences of crossing the line when Louis is kissing him like this. Jesus, it’s hard to think of anything at all.

The hundreds of reasons for why it shouldn’t feel as nice as it does to be greeted this way are right at the tip of Harry’s tongue, but he loses them all in the thrill of Louis slowly licking into his mouth. He simply lets himself enjoy the sensation of fingers tangling in the back of his hair and their hearts accelerating with the pace of their lips. The slide of their mouths is so intoxicating that Harry doesn’t even notice the ease with which he rolls onto his back to be pinned down by Louis’ weight.

The new angle allows Louis to kiss him deeper and Harry hums into it, his heart racing while eagerly kissing him back until Louis pulls away. Harry’s eye fly open, his body left reeling from the loss like a nosedive from a cliff.  

“You hear that?” Louis whispers with his head tilted towards his bedroom door.

Harry forces himself to breathe quieter, practically straining his ears but hears nothing except his own heartbeat pounding in them.

“I can’t hear anything,” he frowns, which is clearly the point when Louis smiles down at him as bright as the early morning sunshine streaming through the window.

“ _Exactly_ ,” Louis whispers pressing a few kisses to the underside of Harry’s jaw and down his adam’s apple. “That means everyone’s still asleep… everyone except _us_.” Harry gasps when Louis pulls the collar of Harry’s shirt down and runs his tongue over both sides of his collarbones. He shivers from the chills despite his skin warming by the second. “And, if everyone’s still asleep, there’s no one to hear us if we decide to take advantage of all this beautiful peace and quiet we’ve been given; kind of a ‘ _if a tree falls and no one hears it_ ’ situation that could be our little secret,” he proposes with a mischievous smirk that has Harry’s imagination racing.

Harry woke up half-hard in the jeans he fell asleep in, but he hadn’t really noticed his erection until now with Louis’ fingers cheekily teasing at his waistband like he can’t wait to slip it down Harry’s thighs. He expertly pops the button of Harry’s jeans as if it was an accident and then raises an eyebrow in question.

It’s the out that Harry needs right now; the breath before the big jump that he can’t take back once it’s begun.

This is his final opportunity to pull himself and this situation together, and yet Harry doesn’t take it. Instead, he gives a slow nod allowing his zipper to be lowered despite the voice in his head screaming that he shouldn’t.

Everything seems to happen in double-time after that with Louis checking in with Harry one more time before removing his jeans completely. Harry helps as best as he can, sitting up to yank his shirt over his head before working on Louis’ layers. Louis reaches into his bedside table, careful of the new-looking lamp balanced on top of it as he digs out a bottle of lube.

Harry’s heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest as he spreads his knees apart for Louis to sit between them. He spends so much time thinking and strategizing; playing different roles, always wearing a poker face, and being all these different things for different people who can never truly reciprocate because none of it’s real; just shallow simulations of it. After all this time, he’s nearly forgotten what real feels like, however, with Louis there’s more than a flicker of it stirring at the pit of his stomach which makes his job and all the fake bullshit that comes with it the least of Harry’s concerns right now.

All the back and forth going on in Harry’s brain stops when Louis starts to open him up with his fingers. He keeps one hand over Harry’s heart while he works Harry open, leaning down to connect their mouths each time he feels it jolt beneath his palm. It feels too good to be touched and the fact that Harry can’t make a sound just makes him more desperate.

When the need to have Louis inside him becomes too much Harry blindly reaches into Louis’ bedside table until his fingers close around a box of condoms. He stops kissing Louis long enough to rip one open with his teeth. Louis’ fingers are so slick that it’s difficult for him to roll the condom on quickly so Harry sits up and does it for him. Once it’s on, they don’t waste a moment more with Harry hooking his legs around Louis to ease the ache his body feels without him inside of it.

Louis’ eyelids flutter closed as he pushes himself forward and when he opens them again his irises are the darkest Harry’s ever seen them, blown so wide they’re almost midnight. Harry’s thighs tremble when Louis starts to move inside him. They’re silent except for the soft squeaking of Louis’ bed and the sound of their bodies slapping together in a steady rhythm.

Harry holds on to Louis, his arms and thighs tightening around him after a series of well-aimed thrusts cause Harry to break the silence with a whimper much louder than Harry meant it to be. Louis kisses him through it to muffle the sound, but the faster Louis fucks him, the less control Harry has over his reactions.

His body begins tensing around the person fucking him closer to the edge. Harry can feel the beginnings of his orgasm creeping up on him as Louis’ rhythm becomes more and more erratic chasing the tight heat pulling him in. The closer they get to bursting the harder it is for Harry hold it together. He lasts as long as possible, his nails anchoring into Louis’ shoulders when their bodies begin to pulse inside and around each other until they’re drained of all the pent-up energy they’d been holding onto.

Pulling air into his lungs and allowing Louis to kiss him down are Harry’s first priorities once they’ve finished. As they lie there in a heap of sweat and come, the cool rush of what they’ve just done is enough to keep ignoring that voice in Harry’s head that says this was a mistake. However, the high soon wears off and the voice filters through the haze turning Harry’s light and airy chest leaden with the remorse of giving in to the one person he shouldn’t have.

When Louis aims his warm grin at him, there’s pure adoration in his eyes. And it’s genuine, amazing, and it’s so sure. But, what’s worrying about that is Harry knows the same fondness is probably being mirrored right back to Louis because Harry truly cares for him too. Harry has known this all along, but it was so much easier to ignore it before the last ten minutes when he broke all the rules and let Louis in; before he realized how far he’s fallen without even meaning to. Which would all be brilliant if not for the fact that Harry’s not _actually_ dating him. Or is he?

Either way, Harry can’t stay here and figure it out. He has to go home _now_. Home; the place he would’ve woken up this morning if he hadn’t spent the night with his client.

Louis makes a sound of protest when Harry disentangles himself from the close cuddle Louis wrapped him in after they came.

“What’s the rush, love?” he chuckles when Harry shoots out of bed to locate his clothes.

“I- uh. _Work_ ,” he lies, absently as he picks up shirt after shirt that isn’t his. “I usually leave my flat by now so I’m going to be late.” When Harry finds his shirt half-way under the bed, he slips his arms into its sleeves and continues hunting for the rest of his outfit. Honestly, where the fuck are his pants?

“Yeah, I know you’ve got work. Everyone will be up in a minute and I’ve got to go soon too,” he sighs, however the happy expression on his face isn’t very sorry. “I might as well not even go in, you know. I won’t focus on a thing after spending the night with you. Not a chance.”

Harry can’t even focus this _second_. He’s fucked for the rest of the day. Possibly even the year.  

“Er- Me too. It was great!” It was literally the last thing Harry should’ve done. “Everything was great. Thanks for dinner and… the orgasm,” Harry tells him practically lunging for his pants when he finds them near the wardrobe across the room.

“Uh, you’re welcome, thanks for coming?” Louis teases keeping the biggest grin on his face the entire time watching Harry mis-button his shirt twice before getting it right and settling for only having on one sock and no shoes before dropping a kiss to Louis’ lips and darting for the door.

It’s so early that everyone in the house still appears to be sleeping, for which Harry is eternally grateful as he creeps down the stairs to freedom, freezing when he comes face to face with Jay sitting in her living room with a cuppa and a book.

“Good morning. Or good night, I’m not sure which is more appropriate here,” she teases from the sofa making Harry want to sink through the fucking floor. How the hell did this happen? How the hell did he _let_ this happen? Harry blames the manipulative smile.

“Mrs. Tomlinson, I swear, your son and I weren’t… I- I mean, I was just. This _isn’t_ … I’m-” He continues stuttering out nonsense as Jay’s eyes do a quick appraisal of his appearance starting from his messy hair, his unzipped jeans, and the one sock he managed to put on in his haste to get the hell out of here. “It’s not what it looks like!” he blurts, instantly wishing he hadn’t when Louis’ mother snorts and then tries to hide her amusement behind her mug.

“A carrot, eh?” she grins, parroting Harry’s own words from a month ago back at him. “Well, I think it’s safe to say my son just had a bite. Maybe more than one.”

Apparently, a fallen tree _can_ be heard. And if there were a word to describe redder than red, Harry would use it to describe his entire face when he thanks Jay and apologizes all in one sentence and runs to his fucking car… which doesn’t even crank because he forgot to turn off the interior light after checking his hair in the rearview mirror last night.

Just brilliant.


	6. Chapter 6

The smell of his duvet from him and Harry sleeping on it all night and then fucking on it this morning is Louis’ new favorite thing. He can hardly even bring himself to get up and go shower away the evidence of the best day ever that hasn’t even really started yet, but reality and his job calls. He’ll simply have to obsess over Harry and his exquisite perfect bum in his mind rather than in his bed.

He heads downstairs once he’s dressed, wearing his blue tie that matches his eyes and the smuggest of smiles when he greets his family in the kitchen.

“Hello everyone! Ooh bacon. Thanks mum. Smells delicious,” he says swiping a couple of pieces from the cooling plate. He steals the mug of coffee his sister places on the countertop. Lottie’s glare turns to a look of surprise when Louis relents and kindly gives it back.

“You’re in a particularly good mood this morning,” she comments on her way to the table.

“Enjoy your sleepover last night?” Felicite smirks, however it has the adverse effect when Louis smirks right back at her.

“If you must know…” Louis says to all seven people in the room, minus the smallest two who are more interested in their smiley face berry toast than his sex life. “ _Yes_ , we did.” His answer receives several eyerolls and even a few grimaces. Not that he cares. Nothing can get him down on this glorious day.

“I can’t believe he actually spent the night,” Lottie mutters, elbowing Louis when he sits down next to her and steals a sip of her coffee. “Isn’t that, I don’t know, kind of awkward?”

It’s like her question is the very one their mother has been holding onto ever since Louis walked in and she sat bolt upright.

“Uh- Yes, darling, how did that go?” she inquires. “Were you bothered at all or? Did you find you _needed_ anything like…more privacy perhaps?”

Louis considers it for a moment, thinking back on last night when Harry wasn’t initially thrilled with the idea of sharing the house, but he soon came around. In more ways than one.

“Nope! Everything was just peachy,” Louis chirps through a mouthful of bacon making his mother let out a long sigh. “Right, napkin. Sorry,” he apologizes with a grin taking one from the center of the table to dab at the grease on his mouth. “So, Mum, was Harry great, or what?”

“Oh, he’s something alright,” she mutters, into her mug.

 

It’s not until later that day that Louis gets to brag all over again, though Niall and Stan don’t seem anymore impressed by him finally getting laid than his family did. Jealous bastards, the lot of them.

“And why do we care again?” Stan blinks at him. He deserves every stolen chip Louis plans to take from right under his nose.

Niall postpones biting into his burger to answer Stan’s question. “We care because his boyfriend smells like a dream and has the holy grail of bums, remember? Keep up.” Niall looks to Louis with an annoying smirk as if waiting for a reaction, which he won’t get because that was a totally accurate description. “But seriously, we get it. You really like him and it’s going great. We’re happy for you, Lou.”

Things are going great. _Perfect._ Aside from this morning when Harry left and things seemed a little off, but that could be the result of lots of things. Louis had also just had the orgasm of a lifetime so it’s possible he read the whole situation wrong.

“So, he sort of like, rushed off this morning…” Louis reveals, earning two interested looks form his friends. “I mean, it was probably nothing. He said he had to get to work and all, but, uh… what do you think that means?”

“He’s a married liar who needed to get home to the kids. Dump him.” Louis can feel himself frowning until Stan bursts out laughing. And that’s it, he is _so_ losing his chips. “I’m totally joking by the way. Why don’t you just call him and check in? _Oi_! _Those are mine_!” Stan complains when Louis stuffs the remainder of his chips into his mouth.

“Not anymore they aren’t,” Louis garbles as he swallows the chips down.

“Where are you going?” Niall snorts when he pushes away from the table.

“Hopefully to buy me more food,” Stan says petulantly, his frown only deepening when Louis uses his greasy hand to ruffle his hair so that it sticks up in a dozen directions.

“Nice try, but _nope_ ,” Louis grins. “I’ve got a call to make.”

Louis leaves his friends to bicker over the rest of Niall’s chips as he heads over to an empty booth on the opposite side of the café. He shouldn’t, but he feels almost nervous once he hits call. What if it really was more than just work that had Harry so flustered this morning?

Louis’ chest loosens when Harry picks up after a few rings and he hears his familiar voice coming through the phone.

“Louis? Hi, how are you?”

“Great now,” he smiles into the phone. “How are you? How’s work?”

“Oh, um. It’s good. Super busy today.”

“Like every other day?” Louis chuckles still slightly unsure of what exactly Harry does, but it seems to take up a lot of his time. “Well I don’t want to hold you up or anything… I know you’ve got big important stuff to do.”

“Okay. Well, was there something you needed?” Harry asks, to which Louis just blushes, hoping that Niall and Stan can’t see from where they’re staring.

“Uh- No. I just… I missed you, I guess. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

There’s a slight pause in their conversation but when Harry finally speaks up, it’s everything Louis was hoping for.

“I miss you too, Louis. It’s really good to hear your voice.” If Louis could, he’d melt into a fucking puddle on the floor. “I should probably get back to-”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Go on. Have a great rest of the day.”

“You too,” Harry tells him. “And, uh, I love- Er. I mean, I look forward to talking to you again. Kay bye.”

Louis blinks at his phone after the line goes dead. Did Harry just almost say what Louis thinks he did? It’s possible it was just a simple case of misspeaking. It’s also possible that Louis is just projecting, but it sounded like; _felt_ like Harry was going to say something much heavier.

“I was worried for nothing!” Louis shouts making his friends frown at him like he’s insane while he practically floats across the room to them.

*

Harry’s heart settles back down in his chest where it belongs after he hangs up the phone. He’s still replaying the last thirty seconds in his head, in total disbelief of what he nearly let slip out of his mouth. He drops the phone in his hand like it’s on fire, his eyes locking with his flatmate’s across the table.

“Shut up.”

“Did you just-”

“ _No_. Shut up,” Harry reiterates which only makes Liam smile more and everyone near them in the restaurant turn their heads towards them.

“Holy shit. You just said you _love_ him. Out loud!”

“I did not! I clearly said I love talking to him and wanted to do it again.”

“Um, yeah, as a _save._ And a pretty shit one at that,” Liam mutters at his lunch he has completely abandoned in favor of gawking at Harry like he’s grown an extra head. He’s been staring at Harry that way ever since he drove over to give his car a jump early this morning. “You fell for a client. Holy shit.”

“Yes, Liam, you’ve said that already. Thanks.” Rubbing it in isn’t helping. It’s only making it worse. “Why don’t you say something useful that I _don’t_ already know,” Harry mumbles into his hands.

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

Harry lifts his head to frown when he realizes he’s heard that before. “Are you seriously quoting Moulin Rouge at me? Right now? This is an emergency!” To use Jay’s words from last night, “This is a disaster!” He went and did the one thing he wasn’t supposed to. And now he’s fucked. Literally. “I need a plan. I need to- to undo this.”

“Uh, I don’t think feelings work that way?” Liam chuckles, turning more serious when he’s met with Harry’s glare. “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll play. So, you’ve been spending all this time with just Louis right? Dates, phone calls, _sex.”_ Just the mention of the word has Harry’s stomach turning cartwheels. “…By the way you didn’t really give many details about-”

“Liam. Focus. You had a _point_ you were getting around to?”

“Right,” he clears his throat. “Well, I’m just thinking that all your energy and attention has been on this one client so maybe you should take on another.”

Harry has gotten a few calls in the past couple of weeks. He could take on another client or two. Technically, he should be done working with Louis soon anyway. He’s in the perfect position to get Louis to move out of his mum’s house so he might as well keep the ball rolling. What could it hurt?

 

One Week Later

Harry watches the man across the table from him chug a glass of water to avoid having to speak to Harry, make eye contact with Harry, or acknowledge that he just asked him a simple question. The man reaches the bottom of his glass and sits it down on the table next to the other two glasses he’s emptied in the last fifteen minutes they’ve been on this date. His forehead is covered in sweat from how anxious he is. Harry can literally see the tension in his fists where they’re balled up on either side of his lunch that he hasn’t taken a single bite of.

“Owen? Is everything alright?” Harry can tell that it’s not, so he gently covers Owen’s hand with his own causing him to jerk from the touch. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” Owen apologizes. “I’m just a mess. And, to answer your question from earlier, no. I haven’t really been on a date before. Not like, an official one and not with someone as nice and gorgeous as you,” he blushes at his hands. “So, I’m sorry, Harry. I’m just new to this. Nervous, I guess.”

Harry takes inventory of Owen’s wide brown eyes and his lips which could start bleeding at any moment from how hard he’s chewing at them, but Harry can’t help but grin. He’s known Owen less than a week, however he can tell that he’s a good guy; just a little nervous like he said. And sure, he may be terrified by the idea of dating and moving out of his parents’ house right now, but by next month he’ll be chock full of confidence and self-assurance and ready to take the next step in his life. He’ll be Owen, just a more sure and independent version of him for which, Owen and his parents will thank Harry.

“I’m sorry I pulled my hand away,” Owen says, finally meeting Harry’s eyes and to his own surprise, _not_ bursting into flames.

“That’s okay,” Harry assures him. “I should’ve asked first. I wasn’t thinking.”

Owen nods, biting at his bottom lip as he works up the courage to speak up again. “Um, we could try again if you want. Sorry again for before.”

“Don’t apologize. Here; whenever you’re ready. No rush,” Harry says, extending an open hand to the center of the table. He holds that position for a few seconds before Owen slowly takes the bait and reaches forward. Their fingers close around one another and suddenly, the deed is done. “There we are,” Harry smiles once his date releases the giant breath he was holding. “It’s not so bad, right?”

“It’s not,” Owen admits with a smile too. “It’s actually really nice.”

It’s going to be difficult working with Owen. Harry has been tasked with the job of getting him from here to living in a flat of his own, ready to take on the world. It’s not impossible, just time consuming. But even so, Harry can’t help but think about Louis and their very first date. It’s possible Harry fell for him right then and there.

No matter how much Harry may want him to be, Owen is no Louis. And no matter how large Owen’s bladder may be, there was no way in hell he would’ve made it through this date without a few trips to the bathroom considering all the water he’s had. “Er- Harry, I’m sorry again, but I need to…” Harry follows his gaze in the direction of the bathrooms and pales at the sight of two angry-looking men standing in the entryway of the restaurant and looking right at him. _Fuck_.

“Erm- Of course, Owen. I’ll be here when you get back, okay?” Owen looks relieved to hear that before his brow furrows with doubt. “I want to hear all about your job at the natural science museum. I’m not going anywhere,” Harry promises.

Owen smiles at the good news before sprinting past Niall and Stan to make it to the bathroom. Harry kind of wishes he’d come back just to avoid the way they’re both glaring at him.

“Who the hell was that guy?” Stan demands.  

“Uh- Nobody. A- A friend,” Harry tries but knows it’s no use when Niall scoffs.

“A friend. Right. Do you hold hands with all your friends? On fucking _dates_?”

This is bad. The worst possible thing that could happen. Owen’s so skittish he’s likely to have a heart attack once he comes out of that bathroom and sees two men confronting Harry and as for Harry’s progress with Louis? He might as well kiss it and him goodbye.

“Listen, I know what this looks like, and you’re not wrong but you’re also not completely right. This is my job and I know you love Louis and care about-”

“Wait, you’re a prostitute?” Stan asks, allowing Niall to correct his terminology with ‘ _escort_ ’.

“I am not a prostitute or an escort,” Harry hisses. “Parents hire me to get their kids to move out of their houses once they’ve overstayed their welcome and my new client, Owen, just chugged _three_ glasses of water he’s so scared of dating me so I need you two to just trust me for a minute and not ruin this because if this date ends badly he may _never_ leave his mum and dad’s! Ever!” he iterates making both boys jump. “Please just give me ten minutes and I’ll explain everything, I swear.”

Niall and Stan exchange unconvinced glances before finally relenting. Thank God.

“Fine,” Niall tells him. “Ten minutes to end this _whatever_ with this guy who’s _not_ our best friend, who’s head over heels for you by the way, and then we want the truth. _All_ of it.”

Lately, Harry’s job just keeps getting him deeper and deeper into shit. And climbing out of it’s not going to be easy.

Because the gods don’t completely hate Harry, Owen gets a phone call from his boss that ends their date just a few minutes after he returns from the bathroom. Harry thanks him for an amazing lunch and sees him off with a quick hug that makes Owen go stiff in his arms before blushing, smiling, and dazedly getting into his car. Back inside the restaurant, the gallows await Harry; both of them looking not at all impressed when Harry takes a seat across from them.

“Explain,” Stan says the moment Harry’s bum hits the chair, but Harry can’t blame him or Niall for their anger. He can definitely see how fucked up this all looks and sounds.

“What do you want to know first?” Harry asks. “Ask me anything, I’m an open book.”

“What is it that you do exactly? What’s your actual job title?”

Harry sighs at Stan’s question the way he wants to any time he has to explain his occupation. “Special Interventionalist is probably the best way to put it? I’m a professional dater of sorts in cases of failure to launch.” Stan and Niall both begin to frown so Harry answers the unasked question that always follows. “It’s the phrase I use to describe adults who, for various reasons, may have a harder time moving out on their own than their peers.”

“Meaning Louis,” Niall concludes.

“Meaning Louis,” Harry nods with another sigh.

“Jay hired you to do this? To fake date her son?”

Harry blinks away from them, unable to look them in the eyes when he answers with, “It’s not so fake. Not with him.” There are so many issues with that statement that Harry can hardly reconcile let alone explain to others. So, he starts from the beginning and tells Louis’ best mates how he only started doing this job because of his ex who wouldn’t commit; how distant he’s kept himself all these years until he met Louis and the line between fake and real got so thin that Harry suddenly found himself on the other side of it.

Niall seems a bit more sympathetic, but Stan still looks suspicious. “Alright. You like Louis so what’s the deal with Owen?”

“Liam’s idea,” Harry shrugs. “I was kind of spinning after I spent the night with Louis and he thought taking on a new client might help distract me from my feelings.”

“And did it?” Stan presses, his expression softening when Harry gives a gentle shake of his head.

“No. I just kept wishing Louis was here instead.”

“How could anyone expect to do such a weird job and not confuse it with their personal life? What, did you expect to never feel anything for anybody?”

The truth is Harry hasn’t felt this way in a long, long time.

“I really do care about him,” Harry says after a long pause. “I know it may not seem like it especially after what you saw today, but. I think I- I mean, I’m pretty sure that I-”

“Love him?” Niall finishes for him since Harry still can’t express the feeling that’s been blooming in his chest all this time.

“Yeah. I do,” he nods. “But I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell him,” Niall says. “ _Everything_. Starting with how you feel, and then the other stuff you told us.”

That is so much easier said than done. It’s also terrifying.

“And if he never wants to talk to me again afterwards?” Harry asks, only for Niall to fix him with a bored look.

“Tell him. Or we will.”


	7. Chapter 7

It’s Friday afternoon when Louis grins at nothing across from his two best friends in their usual lunch spot. Grinning at nothing is a relatively new thing for Louis, but so is being in love.

“What the hell are you looking at?”

Niall turns his head to look at the wall Louis got stuck daydreaming on. Typical these days.

“I think I’m going to invite Harry over for dinner again.”

“Er- Wasn’t he just there like last night. _And_ the night before that?” Stan raises an eyebrow.

Harry could come over every night of the week and it still wouldn’t be enough. Louis would just start inviting him to other random shit like grocery trips just to keep him around.

“Yeah, but it’s nice having him over all the time,” Louis smiles. “He’s getting to know everyone better. My family gets to know him more as well.” The fact that no one hates each other yet has been the best part of this whole thing. “My siblings love him. He bakes for them so they think he’s great. And my mum pulls him to the side all the time just to chat like they’re old friends. Actually, you know, her birthday’s coming up at the end of next month. Having Harry at her party would make her so happy. Oh my god, maybe he could even bake the cake. She _loves_ red velvet and I know Harry can-”

“Alright stop!” Niall interrupts out of nowhere. Louis blinks back at his friend, frowning when he notices him and Stan having a silent conversation with their eyes, with _out_ Louis.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Stan warns under his breath, rolling his eyes with a defeated huff when Niall turns away from him. “Fine. I guess we’ll go on and rain on his parade.”

Parade? _Rain_?

“What the hell’s going on here? _Something’s_ going on here.”

“Has Harry talked to you?” Niall asks, which is a silly question considering Louis was on the phone with Harry when Niall and Stan arrived today. “I mean talked to you seriously. About something he needs to tell you,” he clarifies.

Louis can feel his brow furrowing as he looks between his friends. “No? Not that I can remember anyway. Well, what’s it about? Maybe he did tell me and I just forgot.”

“You wouldn’t forget this, mate. Trust me,” Stan murmurs, letting out another grudging sigh before meeting Niall’s gaze again.

“We need to tell you some things about Harry and your mum… and you’re probably not going to like them.”

“The things or Harry and my mum?” Louis jokes, his stomach sinking a bit when Niall answers with, ‘ _All of it_.’

*

Harry steps out of the shower on Sunday afternoon feeling much better now that his head is clear and he’s no longer sweaty from his run. There’s been this lump of guilt caught in his throat since last night on his second date with Owen whom he kept referring to as Louis. It didn’t help matters when Harry came home and dreamed about him as well, like he wasn’t already stamped all over Harry’s brain. Owen was meant to be the remedy for that. However, trying not to think of Louis has turned out to cause the exact opposite. Which is why Harry called Owen’s parents first thing this morning to apologize and let them know he can no longer work with their son. It’s for the best.

His phone vibrates in the middle of Harry changing into some comfy clothes. He throws on a pair of joggers and an old t-shirt before glancing at the message that makes him feel giddy and dreadful all at once when he sees it’s from Louis.

‘ _Hey, babe! Fancy a home cooked meal prepared by yours truly? My mum deserves a night off so dinner’s at six. We’re having lasagna since I remember you saying it’s your fav. See you soon! Xx_ ’

He bites down on a dumb grin. No one has ever cooked for Harry, client or otherwise. He has no idea why it makes him smile so much. Maybe it’s because Louis can make him feel special with nothing but a text message, or perhaps it’s because this will be Harry’s third dinner at Louis’ house this week, meaning dinner tonight is just another step in the right direction. Granted, Harry still hasn’t worked up the nerve to talk to him about all the lying and taking money from his mother. But still, it needs to be done at some point and prolonging it will only make it worse. Eventually, Harry’s going to have to come clean anyway. It might as well be tonight. It’s past time, really.

Jay lets Harry inside the house along with the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies he’s carrying just after five-thirty.

“Well, this is another lovely surprise. I didn’t realize you were joining us,” she smiles, fondly rolling her eyes when her two youngest run past her to hug Harry’s legs before taking off again.

“Uh- I didn’t realize it either until just a few hours ago when Louis invited me. Says he’s cooking. I didn’t know he even did that,” Harry jokes making his mother laugh too.

“For special occasions, he loves to! Not really sure what’s brought this on today, but I won’t be complaining.”

Harry isn’t sure what made Louis want to do this either, but it feels like a major breakthrough. Maybe Harry hasn’t completely ruined this after all. There’s still room to turn it all around. Perhaps Louis’ growth through all this will be enough to make him realize they did this for his own good. That’s what Harry’s hoping for anyway.

“Is that my wonderful boyfriend at the door?” a familiar voice shouts from kitchen. Louis soon pops his head into the entryway with a kitchen towel over his shoulder and two flutes of champagne in his hands. “Babe, you made it. Ooh. And you brought dessert!” Louis walks over to press a kiss to Harry’s jaw. “Drinks for my two favorites,” he says handing off the champagne to Harry and his mother before skipping off back the way he came. “Well, Harry, come on in, don’t be shy. There’s fresh breadsticks and garlic knots on the table if anyone’s feeling a bit peckish!”

Harry and Jay exchange impressed smiles when all the other Tomlinson’s in the house start running towards the kitchen.

“ _Appetizers_?” Harry asks in awe. When Louis goes all-out, he really commits.

*

“I can’t believe you never told me you’re a cook,” Harry teases from behind his champagne glass. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

And isn’t he one to bloody talk.

Louis smiles over his shoulder at his boyfriend and gives a modest shrug. “If I’d told you, you wouldn’t be half as impressed right now. And besides, I think a little mystery keeps things interesting, don’t you?”

Harry makes a face like he’s not quite sure, but ultimately shrugs and nods in agreement.

The lasagna Louis takes across the room smells heavenly; just the sort of thing that’s _perfect_ for tonight’s occasion.

“Oh, that looks amazing, darling,” his mother praises him as he places the lasagna in the center of the table with the salad and garlic-roasted vegetables. “Thanks so much for doing all this. I’m not sure what’s come over you, but I for one am _loving_ it.”

She and Harry exchange knowing grins that Louis pretends to not see.

“Well, Mum, I’ve had this epiphany and I just thought the best way to honor it is with a little celebration.” Louis begins cutting the lasagna and serving it starting with the youngest set of twins and working his way up the chain until he gets to Harry and his mother.

When Louis sits down in front of his own plate he notices two people across from him who aren’t digging into their food like everyone else.

“Mum? Harry? Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” Harry assures him. “It’s just, you mentioned an epiphany. I’m a little curious to know what that was. I’m sure everyone is, right?” he grins at his family.

“Yes, yes, I’d like to hear. Go on, dear. What are we celebrating?”

“Oh, you guys don’t want hear about that. Just an idea I had. It’s nothing really.”

“Aw, come on, Lou. Don’t keep us in suspense,” Harry pushes. “Tell us your idea, love.”

He asked for it.

“ _Well_ ,” Louis begins after a sip of his own champagne. “As you all know I’ve recently had someone very, very special come into my life. He’s incredible and the time we’ve spent together has been incredible. _Life changing_.” Harry’s so flattered by the praise he can hardly meet anyone’s gaze as he blushes.

“Wow, Lou. I- I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

“Oh, there’s more,” Louis smiles at him. “So, because this incredible person has come into my life, lately I’ve started noticing how -oh what’s the word here? -how _cramped_ it can feel in a family as big as ours especially when bringing in a new member of it.”

Everyone’s eyes are on Louis now, including Harry’s and his mother’s.

“Sweetheart? What are you saying?” his mum asks.

“Er- Yeah, Lou, what are you talking about?” his eldest sister asks eyes widening when Louis stands up from the table.  

“I’m talking about making a change,” he announces. “This house can’t continue containing everybody this way. Something must to be done about it. And as the eldest, I think we’d all agree that I should be the one to initiate that, and so… We’re selling this house and moving to a bigger one! And, _yes_ , that means Harry’s coming too! Doesn’t that sound great?!”

His announcement is met with multiple furrowed brows and two faces in particular that suddenly look a lot less triumphant.

“B-Babe?”

“Darling?”

Louis ignores Harry and his mother’s attempts to keep right on explaining _the plan_.

“SO, this is what I’m thinking. The housing market is perfect right now. If we put the house up within the next week we could easily be looking at a buyer by the end of the month. And when we move to the new house, Harry will just come along with us.”

His mother looks like she may not be breathing properly. “Y-You want to get a bigger house so Harry can move _in_ with us?”

“Well, yeah. Of course. It’ll be perfect. Every night can be just like this one with all of us sitting down together as one big happy family! Everyone gets what they want! There will be more space for us to share, _Harry_ won’t have to keep lying to my face every day, and Mum, _you_ won’t have to keep paying him to do it. Won’t that be nice?”  

The room falls so still and silent that Louis can hear the clock ticking on the wall. The air is so thick that Louis swears he could cut right through it. No one will meet his eyes except his siblings who all look more confused than anything so at least he knows they weren’t in on it too.

“We’re moving?” Daisy asks quietly.

“No, love, don’t worry,” Louis grins kindly at her. “We’re not going anywhere, but, I am.” His expression turns to stone when he looks over at Harry and his mother who have gone mute. “That’s why Harry’s been pretending to like me all this time, right?”

Harry’s face has never gone as red as it does having every pair of eyes in the room boring into him.

“I -I should go. I’m so sorry,” Harry says once the silence in the room becomes crushing.

He doesn’t say another word as he stands up from the table, avoiding everyone’s gazes as he exits the kitchen.

“Don’t worry. You can still include me in your success rate since I’m moving out so I hope I was worth your while,” Louis says just before the front door closes. It’s too tense to stay where he is so Louis soon makes his exit too. He’s already halfway up the stairs when he hears his mother’s footsteps coming after him.

“Louis, please, let’s talk about this.”

“Nothing to talk about. Trust me, I got the message loud and clear,” he tells her once they reach the top of the stairs.

“You’re angry with me, and you have every right to be, but Louis you have to know I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

Hiring someone to pretend to be in love with him sure sounds like a funny way of showing it.

“If you wanted me out, Mum, you could’ve just said so.”

“Sweetheart, I never wanted to push you out. You have to know that. I just- I wanted you to finally be able to have your own life without believing you owe us anything because you don’t. I just wanted you to be happy.”

His mother’s eyes are full of sincerity, but all Louis can think about is how close to happy he was only to realize it was all a lie.

“I’ll be out by the end of the week. Tell Lottie she can finally have my room. It’s all hers,” he says before stepping into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

Three Days Later

“I’m fine,” Louis tells his best friends through a mouthful of their food he’s been shoving into his mouth as if it’s his own. “I am perfectly and unequivocally _fine_. I mean so what my own family has wanted me to move out of the house for years, and sure, I found out that I spent weeks of my life falling for a pathological liar with great lips, but it’s not like any of that has actually affected me in any way whatsoever. Things have never been better. I’m looking at flats again after work today, I’ll have a place of my own soon, and everything is just _fine_. Truly.”

When Louis stops chewing long enough to look up, both Stan and Niall are looking at him like a bomb about to explode at any moment.

“Lou…” Stan clears his throat. “Not to be negative on your whole optimistic outlook, but you don’t _seem_ so fine.”

“Yeah, mate, no offense but you look horrible,” Niall admits with a grimace. “Look, I know you’re pissed at him, but have you spoken to Harry at all?”

“ _Of course not_ ,” Louis scoffs. He plans to never speak to Harry again in his life. The only reason he’s let his mother off the hook is because she’s blood. Also, there were those nine months Louis spent in her belly kicking the shit out of her and then screaming for months on end after she gave birth to him, so she gets a free pass every now and then.

“What Harry did was fucked up. I’m not denying that,” Niall says defensively. “But he wasn’t just in it for the money, Lou. He really cares about you.”

“He’s right,” Stan nods. “You should at least give him a chance to explain.”

Seeing Harry would end so much of the pain his heart feels from the tether that used to connect their hearts suddenly being cut. But, it’s a pain he’ll just have to endure because giving Harry the opportunity to worm his way further into Louis’ heart would hurt much worse.

“He had plenty of chances. He doesn’t get anymore. At least not from me.”

*

Harry opens his wardrobe, sighing as he looks back and forth between its contents and the three suitcases scattered around his bedroom floor. Even if he added a fourth bag, he’s pretty sure everything isn’t going to fit. Maybe he should give some things to Liam.

“You’re going to need a lot more suitcases if you’re still pretending to go through with this whole ‘moving out’ thing,” his flatmate says behind him.

“It’s not pretending if it’s actually happening, Li,” he chuckles as Liam comes to lean against his wardrobe.

“Yeah, that’s just it. It _shouldn’t_ be happening,” Liam retorts.

That’s not true. Really, Harry should’ve done this a long time ago. After his relationship with his ex fell apart two years ago, Harry should’ve left and never looked back, but he didn’t. He stayed and tried to move on by fixing other people because it made him feel better than running. Now, Harry’s back in a similar situation with another person except it’s worse because this one is completely Harry’s fault.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Yes, Li, unfortunately, I do. I need a fresh start somewhere that isn’t here. Stand up straight.” Harry holds up one of his button-ups to Liam’s front, nodding in approval at the way the color makes Liam’s eyes stand out. “You should wear green more often.”

Liam rolls his eyes at the suggestion, batting the shirt away to get Harry’s attention.

“Have you called him?”

Harry’s heart clenches thinking about how many times he picked up the phone only to place it down again because he wouldn’t even know where to begin. And that’s if Louis would even answer.

“No. I don’t have the right to call him. He wouldn’t want me to anyway.”

“How could you possibly know that if you haven’t tried?”

“You didn’t see the look on his face, Li. He was so betrayed. Hurt.”

“Things only hurt when you care, Haz, and he cares about _you_ ,” Liam insists, sighing when Harry isn’t convinced. “He’s not doing well, okay? I spoke to Niall and Stan yesterday and they said he’s as bad as you.”

Harry stops rummaging through his wardrobe for green shirts to blink at his best friend. “You spoke to them? How? _Why_?”

“Because I’m worried about you and they feel the same way. You and Louis need to talk but you’re both too fucking stubborn to admit you miss one another.”

Miss one another? Harry feels like one of his limbs has been chopped off. His heart has never felt so empty. At the same time, it’s good that it hurts so much. Honestly, Harry deserves it.

“I’ve done enough damage already,” he tells Liam. The best thing he can do for Louis at this point is to leave him alone.

 

In the end, Harry ends up with three suitcases full of more clothes than he realized he owned and a whole box full that Liam can maybe get some use out of. His flight back home leaves in just a few hours, but it still doesn’t feel real. He hasn’t seen his family in months so it’ll amazing getting to spend time with them again, but he can’t help but regret all the great people he’s leaving behind. One person in particular that Harry has a feeling he’ll never fully get over no matter how much distance he puts between them.

“All done packing?” Liam asks from Harry’s bedroom threshold. Harry looks around his bedroom one more time just to make sure he’s got everything before nodding in answer. “Well come on then. I’ll drive you to the airport,” his best friend offers. Harry makes sure to hug him tight on his way out to make sure Liam knows how much Harry loves him.

In the car, Harry watches all the familiar buildings of the city fly by the passenger seat window. This place has been home to him for so long that Harry hates the idea of leaving it. He tries to memorize everything he can from the window boxes adorning the front of every flat, the flowering trees that line the main street of downtown, and even the big exit sign for the airport that Liam doesn’t follow.

“Uh- Li, the exit’s back there. You missed it.” Harry continues staring out the window, frowning when he realizes Liam isn’t turning around. “Hey, did you hear me? Airport’s that way,” he points to the left just as Liam takes a sharp right. “Where are we going? My flight leaves at four.”

“I’m aware,” Liam says as he zooms down a set of streets that make Harry’s stomach drop once he realizes where they lead.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but it’s not going to happen. Let me out of this car.” The interior locks click making Harry stare at his friend in disbelief.

“Sorry, mate, can’t do that.”

They screech to a stop outside of Louis’ house which Harry will not under any circumstances be entering. “This whole plan of yours was useless because I am _not_ going in there.” Harry expects his friend to argue back with him, but instead he reaches for Harry’s wrist and snaps a pair of handcuffs around it, wrestling with Harry across the console to wrangle his other wrist into it as well. “What the hell is wrong with you? And where did you even get these?! You can’t just go around putting people in handcuffs!” Harry exclaims as he’s maneuvered out of the car and up the lawn.

“There you both are,” Jay sighs with relief when they reach the door. She opens it wide to let them both in and Harry’s jaw drops.

“What the hell is going on here?” Harry demands.

“We’re stopping you from making the biggest mistake of your life, now hold still and quit squirming,” Liam grunts as he and Jay work to force Harry towards the little bathroom near the entryway.  

“No! This is insane!” Harry shouts, only to be shoved into the bathroom and the door quickly shut in his face.

“This is for your own good, dear!” Jay says on the other side of it, which is the craziest thing Harry’s ever heard.

“You two can’t keep me locked up in here! I’m still handcuffed!”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth Harry looks down to watch a sliver key slide under the door. Fucking unbelievable.

Harry doesn’t even attempt the act of contortion he’d have to pull off in order to unlock himself, but after a while he does hear movement coming from outside. They’re faint at first but soon, Harry can hear voices as well. It sounds like Niall and Stan, and one voice Harry could recognize anywhere.

“I’m just going to run upstairs and grab my combat boots and some extra bullets and I’ll be right back,” Louis tells his friends before noticing something’s weird. “ _Liam_? What are you doing here?” he asks. “Mum, why are you hanging out with Liam? And Niall, why-? _Oi_! What the fuck is your problem? Let me go!” Louis demands before he’s presumably tackled and forced to the bathroom as well.

Harry stands back to let the door swing in, getting a full view of Louis’ panicked expression when he notices Harry standing handcuffed in his bathroom.

“No! Please!” he begs in vain just before the door is pulled shut and locked from the outside. “You can’t do this to me!”

His claim is met with the response Harry got when he said the same thing. “This is for your own good!” Stan yells through the wood of the door.  

“You two belong together now… sit down, talk, and figure out your shit!” Niall demands. “We’ll be back.”

Louis kicks at the door in protest of being left behind, however all that earns him is a sound chastising from his mother.

“They’ve all lost their fucking minds,” he grumbles as he lets his back slide down the length of the door to take a seat on the bathroom tile. “This is insanity. It’s completely unnecessary.”

“You’re telling me,” Harry says from where he’s sitting on the edge of the tub. “I was on my way to the airport. I’m going to miss my flight home.”

Louis’ rolls his eyes at that. “Right. You lie to innocent people for a living, but heaven forbid you miss your precious _flight_.” Louis stares at him like he’s daring Harry to disagree. He seems to lose a bit of the fight in him when Harry nods down at his bound hands.

“I deserve that. You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Louis scoffs and turns his head away from him, happier to stare at the wall than at Harry. However, Louis checks on him after a few minutes his gaze taking note of Harry’s irritated wrists.

“Are those hurting you?” he asks in sharp tone, but there’s a hint of real concern beneath it.

“They’re kind of tight,” Harry nods, remembering he was given a key earlier in order to free himself. “I know I shouldn’t ask anything of you, but there’s a key somewhere near you. You may be sitting on it.”

Louis glances around himself, eventually finding the key beneath his leg. They’re sitting as far apart in the tiny bathroom as physically possible, which is maybe why Harry is surprised when Louis crosses the room with the key and sits down next to him on the tub’s edge.

“Louis, you don’t have to-”

“Oh, shut up and give me your wrists,” Louis mutters, his jaw tensing a bit when Harry rests his hands on Louis’ legs so he can reach the lock. He clears his throat, pointedly looking at the cuffs and only the cuffs as he works. “There,” he mutters after a few seconds of fiddling with the key. “You’re free.”

“Thank you,” Harry sighs in relief to which Louis just says, ‘ _Yeah._ _Whatever_ ’ before making his way back to his side of the bathroom to continue staring at the wall.

Being forced to see each other like this is worse than Harry could’ve imagined. Louis hates him. This is exactly why Harry didn’t call because he knew there was no way Louis _couldn’t_ hate him for what he did; for all the lies.  

“I’m sorry, Louis. For everything,” he says after a long silence. “I know it doesn’t fix anything or take it back, but- I just needed to say it. You deserve at least that.”

It doesn’t seem like Louis is even listening to him, but he must have heard. Harry doesn’t even expect him to say anything back, but after a while Louis dares to meet his gaze. There’s definitely anger behind it, but it’s better than pretending Harry isn’t here at all.

“Well, I don’t accept.” Harry figured that much. If the situation was reversed, Harry wouldn’t forgive him either. “And actually, while you’re being so _truthful_ for a change, why don’t we keep the trend going,” he spits. “The day we met?”

“Your mum told me you’d be at the record shop, so I made sure to be there too.”

“ _Wow_.” Louis shakes his head at him in disbelief. “Our first date?”

Was lovely. It was the lightest he’d felt in a long time. Harry should’ve known then that he was in trouble. “…I do take most clients to that restaurant for a first date. The staff knows me there so it’s just easier.”

Louis chuckles humorlessly at that. “Jesus. You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?  Down to the last detail. God, the only _real_ thing you probably ever let me in for was your rabbit dying.” Harry’s expression turns guilty as Louis watches him and his mouth falls wide open. “Even the fucking _rabbit_?!” he exclaims. “Seriously?!”

Harry winces at the bathmat beneath his feet wanting more than anything to disappear through it.

“Why’d you even do it?” Louis demands to know next. “Why go through all this bullshit?”

Harry isn’t sure why he thought any of this was ever a good idea anymore. It just seems sillier and sillier the more he thinks about it.

“I… I thought I was helping people. I thought I was helping _you_ , but.” Obviously, that wasn’t the case. If anything, Harry’s just made things worse.

His answer seems to disarm Louis for a moment, his vibrato simmering down to a slight air of annoyance rather than pure hatred.

“So, what else besides our entire relationship and every word you’ve ever said to me was fake?” he asks quietly. “Did you really like my family? Is sleeping with your clients usually part of the deal or did I get lucky and unlock some special bonus level in your little program?”

That stings more than anything else Louis has said, but Harry endures it, taking a deep breath before answering him as honestly as possible.

“I’ve never slept with a client before, Louis. Ever. And, I adore your entire family like they’re my own… I feel the same way about you. That wasn’t part of any program.”

There’s a noticeable change in the passive façade Louis’ been wearing. His eyes aren’t nearly as fierce as they had been so Harry continues spilling his heart.  

“And, our relationship may have started out fake, but Lou. You and I both know it didn’t end that way. The things I felt with you weren’t fake because I- I _love_ you, Louis.”

It’s the first time Harry has been able to say it out loud, but he meant it.

“ _Love._ Right,” Louis scoffs. “Pretty sure you have to have _real_ feelings for that.”

“I _do_ have real feelings, Louis. I’m not a robot.”

“Well I’m not either!” he shouts. “ _I_ cared about _you!_ _I’m_ in love with you too! And you- you ripped out my fucking heart, Haz!”

“Well, that wasn’t my intention!” Harry snaps right back at him. “This is the lowest I’ve ever felt in my life! All this time, I thought I was generally happy. I loved my life and everything about it and then you came along and made me realize I didn’t even know what happy was!” Harry was blissfully unaware that he was lonely and now no matter what he does, he can’t stop thinking about it. “Do you know how annoying it is to think you’ve got everything only to realize something’s been missing the whole time? To not eat? To not sleep? To hardly be able to breathe from how suffocating it is being without you? I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, Louis. I really, really, didn’t, but- but…” He did. Harder than he could’ve ever imagined.

Harry was so distracted telling Louis exactly how he feels that he didn’t even notice he’d gotten up from the floor. There's something different in the way he's looking at Harry as he takes a small step towards him and then another making Harry’s heart stutters in his chest. The distance between them gets smaller and smaller until Louis sits down next to him at the edge of the tub.

When he looks at Harry, his blue eyes are full of a kind of hope and warmth Harry didn’t think he’d ever see again.

“You can’t sleep either?” Harry shakes his head, breath catching in his throat when he sees the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of Louis’ lips. “Well good. I thought it was just me.” Harry smiles for the first time in days, the action warming his chest and heart.

“I keep dreaming of your dumb smile,” Harry confesses.

“And I keep dreaming of your magnificent bum. It’s tragic really,” Louis teases before carefully taking Harry’s hand in his. “Did you mean it when you said I made you happy?”

Harry nods as he squeezes Louis’ hand. “You still do... I’m happy just being near you,” he admits.

“Me too,” Louis says with a weary sigh that ends in a smile. “So, in your professional opinion, what we should do about that?”

 _We_. Harry’s heart could burst from how full it feels hearing Louis use such a small word.

“You mean, as a couple?” Harry checks, almost scared to hope that he’s being given another chance.

“Well, yeah, as a couple. We’ve got to get some bloody sleep at some point, right?” Louis jokes, but Harry doesn’t laugh, he’s too busy pulling his actual, real-life boyfriend into an uncoordinated kiss that lands them piled on top of one another at the bottom of the bathtub.

“Your elbow’s currently in my ribs but I’m okay with that because I love you,” Louis snorts.

“I love you too,” Harry tells him. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. I will never do that to you again, I swear.”

Harry’s breath catches in his throat when Louis kisses him quiet. His heart’s still thudding when Louis pulls back to smile at him. “I know.”

Harry surges forward to connect their lips again, just needing to be closer to him. Louis hums into him response making Harry grin when he feels Louis growing hard under the weight pinning him down.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he begs when Harry suddenly pulls away. “Where are you going?” The smirk on Harry’s lips should be answer enough, but Louis’ brain clicks when Harry sits back to undo his jeans.

There’s a knock at the door a minute later that neither of them acknowledges, just like all the people they can hear crowded at the door for a listen.

“Oi. You two are pretty quiet in there,” Niall says and receives no answer from anyone inside the bathroom.

“Did you two _actually_ kill each other?” Stan asks.

“ _Or_ have you finally realized you’re meant for each other and everything’s been resolved?” Liam tries next, the end of his question getting lost by the deep moan Louis lets out when Harry sinks his mouth over him and hums. “Uh- _Oh_. Um, well, we’ll just come back later. Much later,” Liam tells the door quickly adding a ‘ _Congratulations_ ’ over another loud moan before multiple pairs of feet shuffle away.

 _Good_ , Harry thinks when Louis’ fingers tangle in his hair. This might take a while.  


	9. Chapter 9

Two Months Later

The last street that Louis’ mother turns onto makes his chest feel tight and warm all at once. It’s one of the weirdest feelings he’s ever experience, but he guesses that’s to be expected on such an important and monumental day.

“You’ve got the keys, right?” his mother checks. “And a copy of your lease?”

Louis fondly rolls his eyes out the passenger window and smiles at the constant state of worry she’s been in all week.

“Yes, Mum. I’ve got both keys and lease. Check.”

She doesn’t seem too impressed with his sass, but lets him get away with it for now.

“And what about the number for your landlord? You know you can call him at any time. Says so in the lease.”

“As noted per your last inquiry, I am aware of the lease. If anything goes wrong, I will call the landlord. What else you got?”

“First aid kit?”

“Already at the flat. Next?”

“Toilet paper?”

“Bought enough for the next decade. Next?”

“The picture of all of us I put in one of your boxes when you weren’t looking?” a smaller voice pipes up from the back of the van, making Louis’ heart melt. He turns around to smile at Phoebe…and Daisy, and Lottie, and Felicite, and the youngest set of twins.

“I’ll hang it up as soon as it’s unpacked,” Louis promises her and the rest of his siblings who he can’t believe he won’t be around to annoy anymore. He can’t believe this is the big day.

They slow to a stop outside a brick building of flats that Louis will call home the moment he steps out of this van. His mother who has kept herself pretty level headed until now quickly wipes at her eyes before facing him.

“I know you’re a big independent adult now with a place of his own, but you’re still my baby,” she says through a thickness in her throat.

“I know, mum,” Louis chuckles.

“I want phone calls at least once per week,” she demands.

“Call every day, ten times a day. Got it,” Louis teases. “Any other requests?”

“Yes. Visits on Sundays for dinner and any other day you can manage, because our house will always be your home.”

All week, Louis has been trying to keep his emotions under control but he still feels a tingle in his throat when his mother wraps him in a tight hug. He tells her goodbye along with everyone else before hopping out onto the pavement with the last of his boxes stacked in his hands.

“Love you all,” Louis mouths to his family as they drive off, but he only allows himself to feel sad about their absence for a moment before walking into his new home sweet home. It’s five floors up which is only made more difficult with the boxes in Louis’ hands but he makes it. He doesn’t even bother putting them down or fumbling with his keys when he gets to the door. He simply yells to announce his presence.

“Haz! Babe, I’m outside. Can you let me in?”

The door creaks open a few seconds later to reveal his boyfriend in his moving day outfit which features joggers, Louis’ t-shirt, and his hair held back by a headband.

“Welcome home!” he says before blowing confetti out of the palm of his hand… which is really just ripped up moving paper but points for creativity. Harry smiles like an idiot after greeting him that way, and so does Louis. They’ve only been waiting to be able to say that to one another for months.

Harry steps aside to let Louis in, taking one of the boxes from Louis’ arms. They’re set them both down with the other two-dozen boxes they haven’t even begun to think about opening, but at least the hard part’s over.

“Hey, love.” Louis greets his boyfriend properly, pressing a kiss to the stubbly jaw before him followed by his chin, nose, and both cheeks just to make him snort.

“So, anything else at your mum’s that you need to get?” Harry asks amid his shower of affection.

“Nope,” Louis reports with confidence. “I’ve officially flown the nest. How about you? Any more boxes at Mother Liam’s?”

“Nope,” Harry reports just as happily. “All boxes are here inside the flat with us, which means… WE’RE OFFICIALLY MOVED IN!” Louis bursts out laughing when Harry bends down to scoop up his moving paper confetti to throw it around again. It hasn’t even been a full day and Louis’ almost certain their new neighbors hate them already. “I’m so proud of you, babe. Of _us_ ,” Harry tells him. When their lips meet, it’s celebratory, however Louis would argue that declaring them ‘moved-in’ is tad bit premature.

So far they have a makeshift desk made of boxes serving as Harry’s office so he can continue working while they move (he’s halfway through writing his first book as a self-help specialist which has already been scouted by a couple of publishers), they have a coffee table and a bunch of other furniture waiting to be assembled, a bare mattress on the floor of their living room, and a housewarming bouquet from their loved ones on the kitchen counter… along with Chinese take-away that definitely wasn’t here when Louis left thirty minutes ago.

“Holy shit. Is that orange chicken from Golden Sun I smell? And eggrolls?” Louis asks once they part, already making his way towards the sweet aroma of it. Harry laughs while watching him dig through all the containers to take inventory.

“Would I order you anything else besides your favorite _from_ your favorite?”

This is exactly why Louis likes him. Well, that, and the fact that he’s the love of his life, but mostly because of the food.

“So, there is dinner now but _technically_ we should probably wait and get a head start on unpacking… Thoughts? Comments?”

Louis makes a face at the mere thought of doing more work after already spending the day making trips back and forth to move their stuff.

“I would rather drown in a tub of duck sauce,” he says while cracking open the fortune cookie he finds at the bottom of the bag. ‘ _All you need is Love. Embrace it.’_ Fitting considering the gorgeous, loving man beside him. “What’s the alternative to starvation and hard labour?”

“Mmmm, saying fuck it, starting in on our housewarming wine with paper cups, eating on our new mattress, and then spending the rest of the evening breaking it in along with our shower because we live here now and we can do whatever we want?”

Dinner, booze, _and_ sex on every surface without the fear of anybody seeing, hearing, or interrupting them versus actually being responsible in their new flat? Like that’s even a fucking choice.

“It’s a date. You find the cups, I’ll find the lube,” Louis tells him, but before he manages to rush off to rummage through a million boxes Harry pulls him back by his arm to press a slow kiss to his lips.

“ _Mmm_. What was that for?” Louis asks, pulling his boyfriend closer since he’s not ready to let Louis go just yet.

Harry shrugs in his arms grinning so wide his dimples appear. “Just excited for our first home date, I guess. And to finally be living with you. And to go to bed with you and wake up with you, and basically drive each other mad like always except _extra_ ,” he smirks.

“Sounds lovely,” Louis fondly rolls his eyes. “Any weird habits of yours that I should be aware of?”

“Of course. Sometimes, I’m going walk around the flat _nude_ ,” he warns.

“So, my ultimate fantasy,” Louis laughs. “Go on.”

“Oh, just you wait. You get to watch me brush _my_ teeth, I can watch you brush _your_ teeth.” Strange kink and slightly serial killer, but sure. Why not? “We can watch each other do our hair and choose date outfits which I take _very_ seriously by the way.” So, they’ll be late to everything and their friends will hate them. Noted. “We can curl up together on rainy days and make pancakes on the weekends...”

Harry continues listing off all the things they now have the freedom to do with one another and it all sounds amazing. Louis can relate to his boyfriend’s excitement over it because he’s excited for this new chapter in their lives too. Mostly due to the amazing person he gets to bring along for the ride who makes Louis cackle with his latest addition to their great list of live-in couple things.

“We are not watching each other _pee_ , you weirdo.” He just laughs harder when Harry smacks his bum and wiggles his eyebrows with a ‘ _Just try and stop me_.’

He’s going to be worse than all of Louis’ siblings combined.  He can’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Laura for giving me something so fun to write XD  
> Also, thanks so much to Tabby for reading over it! 
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!   
> [rebloggable fic post](http://all-these-larrythings.tumblr.com/post/183402424206/failure-to-launch-30k-by-rearviewdreamer)


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